


Break Every Clock

by Stealthtable, SuccinctAbilities



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Animal Death, Arranged Marriage, Background Taagnus, Brainwashing, Burns, Canon Compliant, Canon Temporary Character Death, Coercion, Communication, Crew as Family, Crush at First Sight, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Science, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, F/M, Fake Marriage, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Gaslighting, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hair Braiding, HoH!Lup, Kissing, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Meet-Cute, Mind Control, Nightmares, Non-Canon Cycles, Only One Bed, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pining, Police Brutality, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sign Language, Slow Burn, Smooching, Surveillance, Temporary Character Death, The Hunger, Tickling, We’re gonna hit this hard y’all, actual linguistics, feel free to request tags, hard of hearing character, heights, soft and horny makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 41
Words: 208,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealthtable/pseuds/Stealthtable, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccinctAbilities/pseuds/SuccinctAbilities
Summary: A hundred years is a long time.These nerds are gonna need every second of it, looks like.Join us as we slowburn our way through the Stolen Century, learning trust and love and how not to be a doofus (hopefully).
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup
Comments: 394
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the big day! Seven of Tüson's best and brightest gather and prepare for the biggest scientific journey yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SA: So, Stealth and I may have gone off a bit with the writing playlists for this work. We'll be throwing some of them in chapter notes, in case y'all want to listen along, or just see what the soundtrack to this story looks like from each of us. Happy reading and listening!
> 
> From SuccinctAbilities [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Eg4mSOLIzvDPKorViByHp)
> 
> from Stealthtable [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1FP4nqss5u8qXyx33hL0HO)

It's fairly easy work to make it to your meetings when you live on the same campus. Nevertheless, Lup wakes up a solid two hours before orientation, earning a projectile pillow to the face from her brother. The alarm is more felt-than-heard, but sharing a well-loved queen size makes that a moot point. She fumbles with the buttons on the alarm, runs her hands through mussed hair, and takes a breath. The big day. 

_Oh gods, it's the big day._

And just like that, she's rushing around the apartment-style dorm, nearly putting toothbrushing powder in the coffee machine before stopping, blinking, and spitting out coffee grounds into the sink. By the time Taako's actually sitting up and blinking in the sunlight, she's already showered and working on breakfast. "ETA on eggs-- two minutes! Coffee's still warm; get _ready_ , dingus!" 

A solid hour later, the twin arcanists are seated in the conference room-- Taako with a large travel mug of coffee and Lup with an open notebook and swishing tail. Finally, they've done all the hard work, and now they're going to get their assignments for the most prestigious of all IPRE missions to date: The Starblaster Reconnaissance.

Barry slept.

If anyone asks, he did sleep-- or at least lie horizontal for several hours-- or at least try to lie horizontal for several hours last night.

He rolls out of bed. May as well; it's still too early for it, but real sleep is a no-go while this keyed up. It's the big day, finally. It's life-changing, anyone would be nervous!

He pulls on a pair of jeans and one of several ostensibly identical button-downs. They aren't identical: this one is lucky, and worn soft in all the right ways. He microwaves some tiny breakfast biscuit sandwiches and munches on them, leaning on the counter waiting for his coffee to brew, absently reading the article about the Starblaster Reconnaissance mission for the twentieth time.

He sips the coffee slowly. He deserves to be here. He worked hard for this. He did and will do good. He's almost convinced of that. He'd better walk, it's nice out and it'll work out some of these jitters.

He sits down awkwardly in the conference room, having lurked nearby until he sees other folks start to go in. He gives the others a tentative smile.

Time to meet his new crewmates.

Lup watches as others file into the room; a few humans, a dwarven man, and a gnome dressed to the nines. The gnomish man-- Captain Davenport, of course, steps up to the head of the table and takes his seat. They'd all read about the sure and steady head of their mission, and Lup catches herself sitting up a bit straighter in his presence. 

The briefing is fairly standard, if there is such a thing for inter-planar research missions. Their Captain delivers each of them their contracts and requisite paperwork yet to be filled out, explains (in more detail than the applications) the timeframe of their two-month mission to the various planes of their system, and introduces each of the members of the crew. Taako gives a nonchalant wave at his name, but Lup can see the perk of his ears; he's just as excited to be here as the rest of them, contrary to his feigned attitude. Lup nods at her name, making sure to catch eyes with each of her fellow crew members with a broad smile. Best to make a good impression. They'll be in close quarters for a while, anyways. 

After the Captain's closing remarks and a few questions, Lup flips back in her notes to double-check her crewmate's names. Never can be too careful when committing those to memory. To be fair, the book has transcribed the whole meeting-- much easier to make out all the details by reading than relying on her own hearing. A simple divination charm, and the pages filled themselves. When it comes to distinguishing the two large human dudes, Lup couldn't be more grateful. 

"Hi, uhmm... Doctor Hallwinter?" She approaches one of them; a man in dark denim and white cotton. "Biology and Necromancy, right? Lup Tacco." She sticks out a hand, kind smile and eyes watching his lips to catch his words over the hum of conversation. "Chem and Evocation. I'm excited to work with you all." Not least of them one who studied the intricate workings of life and death, and still seems so… _human_. She's already itching to work with him, to learn from him and maybe teach him something in return. But there will be plenty of time for that soon.

Barry takes her hand and shakes it. Lup is such a nice name. And, oh, is she _stunning_. Barry can feel himself starting to get nervous already. She’s smart, too, smart enough to distinguish herself and earn a spot on this team, but he wasn’t prepared for her to be unspeakably beautiful.

And Chem? So they’ll work very closely, then, after all, go small enough, down to the molecular level and—

Biology and Chemistry become inextricably intertwined.

He clears his throat nervously, body language reading more ‘insecure teenager’ than ‘renowned man of science’ at the moment. “Hi...Lup. Nice to meet you, Barry’s fine, you don’t gotta...” he says, voice nowhere near the confidence he wishes for, trying to retain some form of professionalism rather than falling to dust because someone smart and beautiful looked him in the face. Smooth, Barry. “I, uh—I look forward to working with you, too,” he manages.

Lup nods along, attention flickering between his eyes and his mouth while he speaks. "Barry, of course. Well, uhh... Taako and I were thinking of having everyone over for breakfast before flight training tomorrow, so..." She quickly flips open her notebook, and jots down the address and time, tearing out the page and offering it. "We're in the Grad Res, apartment 114. Don't feel like ya have to, but everyone's invited. Y'know, get a bit of down time together? And I'm making cinnamon eggy-bread, soooo..." She winks with a grin. "I'll see ya tomorrow?"

Barry nods, taking the page from her. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be there, thanks. See you tomorrow then,” he answers, slightly dazed. He smiles back at her. She’s even prettier when she grins.

With that, Lup turns back to the room, eyeing who to invite next.

\---

Barry arrives at apartment 114 with a couple of minutes to spare. It’s a little nerve-wracking, but probably best to get to know the other crew members this way than to just go through training and hop on a ship to live with them all for two months. He knocks at the door and offers a bashful smile as it opens.

It's Lup that answers the door, uniform pants and t-shirt with a dish towel over one shoulder. "Come in, come in! Coffee's on, Ko's got bacon finishing up, but the rest's all ready!" 

The apartment's not large, definitely meant for a single person. It's all one room, technically, save the washroom. There's a hazy divide in style between the twins, but looking at their room makes it a bit clearer: one side of the bed is hastily made, the other an organised chaos of blankets; one desk covered in haphazard stacks of makeup and paperwork, another holding one stack of folders filled to bursting. To the untrained eye, it would be difficult to see where one twin ended and the other began, but between the two of them? Clear as day. 

Barry follows her in, taking in the apartment. This makes sense. This makes sense for them; he can tell, even from the limited time he’s known them. The apartment’s not fully chaotic, it’s relaxed. It has its own order. 

Lup starts stacking a few slices of sweet cinnamon toast on a plate, and slides it across the counter. "Dig in! Lucretia said she'd be here soon; I think Magnus was gonna pop by after the gym, right Ko?" 

"Yup. Tried to get me to come with, _pssh_ \-- Taako's good out here."

“Thanks,” Barry says, accepting the plate. “It’ll be nice to get to hang out a little.” He takes a bite.

Oh! It’s _very_ good. The toast’s cinnamon flavor is warm and inviting, homey, like a warm fire in the winter, with enough of a spicy bite to remind you to respect it. Barry loves it.

“This is so good, you made this?” he asks.

She sips a steaming mug, one with the molecular composition for caffeine printed on the side. "Yeah, thanks! You want coffee? Uhh, got some tea too, if that's more your speed?" She sets down her mug, rummaging through a cabinet, some jars audibly jingling. "Hey Ko, can you pick up some Valerian when you hit the stores later? Runnin' low." She finds another mug on a very mug-full shelf, this one with a "cat-ion" pun, and sets it down next to the coffee pot. "Uhh, milk, sugar?"

“No milk for me, I can’t, um—sugar’s good,” Barry replied. “Thanks.” He accepts the mug of coffee, suddenly a little at a loss. Better figure out how to coexist without actively coworking, he reminds himself. “Big day of training. It’s lucky you two are going together, huh? Must be nice having someone close to you.” Barry has never met a twin who didn’t have several minutes of small talk on twin-ness ready. Hopefully that will help him settle into conversation with them. He’s starting to relax a little.

"Yeah, totes, good to have someone to show up." Taako snickers, and Lup swats him with her dishrag. He brings over a tall plate of bacon, and Lup starts building her own plate. Two slices with a saucy layer of bacon in between; the sexiest of all breakfast sandwiches, if she does say so herself. And she does. 

" _I_ for one, am excited to meet everyone-- y’know, more than just names and credentials and junk. Like, two months is a _bit_ \-- I don't want to be stuck with strangers for any of it. So," she points her fork at Barry to make her point. "Gotta make sure no one's a stranger, ehh? You're in bio, right? So they'll probably have the three of us in the labs for... a lot of this, huh?"

Barry chuckles and nods. “Yeah, I’d assume so. I personally am...pretty relaxed in there? I hope we can have fun; what’s the use of exploring the planes if we don’t enjoy ourselves? Science is fun, if you’re doing it right,” he says. He snags a piece of bacon and crunches it.

Lup grins, “Exactly! If you do everything right, the kinds of things you can discover? Wild!” 

A knock sounds at the door, and Barry looks up. Magnus, maybe, or Lucretia? Lup said they were both coming. They both seemed nice at the briefing, it’ll be good to get to know them, too.

Taako’s ear flicks at the knock, and he goes to get it. He returns flanked by two humans, one a head taller and the other a head shorter than him. He points them both at the breakfast spread on the counter, and the beefy one— Magnus— doesn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah, bacon!”

Barry turns to see the two enter. Magnus and Lucretia, he thinks, security and records, respectively. "Morning," he offers.

Lup’s ears flick at that, turning to see the newcomers return Barry's welcome. “Hey guys! Coffee?”

Lucretia smiles gratefully at Lup. "Yes please," she answers, moving to accept a mug. "Thank you for putting this together, your home is lovely."

" _Home's_ a strong word," Taako sets his own plate on the table and slides in next to Lup. "But thanks."

Barry digs into his toast and considers the newcomers. Magnus is _big_ , and seems friendly in a forthright way. Lucretia seems sweet, and a tad serious. Barry wonders if she always is, or if she'll loosen up once she gets comfortable. "It's really good, guys, don't sleep on the toast," he advises.

"We're happy you guys came! And this is just a _peek_ of what we can whip up on the mission, don't _even_ worry. I'm starting to think half the reason Cap'n Davenport let us on was 'cause we said we'd cook." Lup laughs, well on her way to her second cup of coffee. "We can deffo do this sorta thing again, too, though we might need someone to pick up more bacon..." She raises an accusative eyebrow at the mountain of pork on Magnus's plate. He stops mid-bite, giving an "Oops" around a mouthful. 

Several rounds of coffee later, Magnus has offered to help Taako with dishes and Lup's packing up leftovers. The two move like a duet in the small kitchenette, working with and around Magnus while the humans chat and occasionally piping in themselves. Taako makes a signal with his hand, and Lup chimes in-- "Uhh... quarter till, we should probably head over, yeah?" She slings a backpack over her shoulder, filling a thermos with the last of the coffee pot.

Barry slaps his knees and swings up out of his chair. "Ope, better get going, don't wanna keep everybody waiting. You guys ready to rock and roll?"

Lucretia gets up, too, and they follow Magnus out the door, Barry stepping to the side to allow her through the door and the twins following him and locking up on the way out. Time for flight training.

Lup snorts, once at Barry's colloquialisms and again at what Taako signs to her. “ _Can't believe I've got to_ ,” she signs back, and catches up to the human squad. 

\---

"What's the wager, brother dearest?" Lup sits next to Taako on the edge of a pool table in the midst of a lively bar. The rest of the IPRE team is scattered throughout, partying up their last night on Tüson for the next two months. 

"Well, money's no good in space... you thinkin' what I'm thinkin', sis?" He smirks right back. They both turn to the sorry suckers across the table. 

**_"Shoes."_**

Barry watches with interest out of the corner of his eye as Taako and Lup begin to turn the tide of the pool game in their favor. Looks like they'll be winning whatever bet they've placed. Barry makes a mental note not to let these two trick him into pool-related shenanigans...well, not against them, anyway, maybe stay on their side.

"...Anyway, apparently they aren't sending any guard dogs to space, which is a real bummer, but yeah, that's how I got into security work," Magnus explains. "Hopefully when I get back I can keep training 'em, like you don't even have to teach 'em aggression, you can just let 'em bond with their human and they'll know when things are going south and step in."

"That's cool, Magnus, dogs are really someth--is Lup taking that guy's shoes?"

The twins high-five, and two rather grumpy looking dudes leave the table in their socks. Lup gets up to grab a round, calling over to the guys a moment later with a drink in hand. "Hey, Barry, what size are ya?" She waves a set of loafers in the air, "Cause I dunno that these are my style." 

She sidles up next to him, propping her elbows on their table. Her ears flick with the background noise of the tavern, tail swishing idly. "Am I interrupting?"

Barry chuckles a little. Alright. Lup has...strange shoes for him, pending sizing. "Ten?" he answers. He gestures to the empty seat in invitation. "Seat's open, Magnus was just telling me about how he trains dogs."

"Looks like your lucky day then, Barold. Fresh off a mediocre pool player." She sets them on the table, turning to Magnus. "And how does a _dog trainer_ get to be a security guard?"

Barry regards the loafers with suspicion and curiosity. It was still a coin flip in his mind whether these were getting thoroughly disinfected and worn or whether he'd poke around and see what kind of microbes were in the soil this guy walked on, just for funsies. They're leaving tomorrow though, so probably not enough time.

Turns out Magnus's resume is a lot of crossfit and learning from the doggos themselves. It's an interesting story to hear; this kid's not even thirty and he's already held more odd jobs than Lup could name. It's downright impressive. Maybe she'll take him up on his offer of sparring practice one of these days. 

"What about you, Bluejeans? What got you into this predicament with all of us?"

Barry quirks a little smile into his beer before answering. “Same reason I got into Necro, honestly. You ever just think, ‘what if this, but _beyond?_ ’” he asks. “Like I’ve studied a lot, written and tested hypotheses and lost sleep over some elusive variable and all that, but one day I woke up and thought ‘what if I went bigger, and saw what happens under conditions we’ve never even thought of?’ So I started looking for opportunities to sort of push the limits and, you know, that’s how I found the Institute. A lot of what we think of as the end is really just kind of a point where things change, you know. How about you?”

“Exactly! Like, I’ve done this world, and kind of. Crushed it? There’s gotta be more out there to figure out, yeah? One of my professors actually uhh— they slipped an application in with my term paper when they handed it back? Had to make a copy for Ko, because _obviously_ , but it was like, the perfect opportunity. Still kinda can’t believe it’s real yet... probably won’t until we’re floating through the planes.” 

She shakes her head, smiling into her drink. Everything about this was so surreal, but they’d done it, and tomorrow they’d be taking off and leaving this shit plane behind. If only for a little while.

Barry smiles. Something about Lup's assurance that she'd _crushed it_ is just...wow, imagine being that self-confident? She'll be amazing to work with, and Barry is delighted. Just from what he's seen in the training they've gone through, Lup talks a big game and can absolutely back it up. "That's really gonna be something. I wonder, I wonder what it looks like up there, you know? I wonder what home looks like from outside the Prime Material Plane? Guess we'll find out soon, but it's wild to think about," he says. "I wanna watch during launch, I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me a little nervous, though."

"Gods, I bet it looks so beautiful. Like... like a reflection in a pool? The atmosphere's gotta make it all hazy, but like, it's still _Tüson_ , right? It can't look all that different." 

She snorts as Merle sets a round of shots at the table, calling out a hearty "To science, er somethin'!" as he trots off to find the rest of the crew and disperse liquor. She gives the little glass a sniff ( _He's definitely earned those party points somewhere..._ ) and raises it. "And hey, I'll be right there with ya on the deck. Wouldn't miss it. To uhh... science?" She chuckles.

Barry raises his glass to Lup's and Magnus's. "To science," he says. "And to new adventures!"

"Hell yeah!" Magnus agrees, and the three down their shots.

Barry coughs and laughs. He looks around the bar, and sees Lucretia dutifully writing down a record of their revelry, Merle nearby with Taako and Davenport. They're leaving tomorrow, but it's just temporary. Soon enough, they'll go back to their lives. Wonder if they'll get close enough to keep in touch? Surely at work anyhow? Time will tell, Barry supposes.

Lup is almost surprised to see Lucretia turn down her shot. Almost. It's still a little shocking how young some of these humans actually are; the twins aren't like, _old_ by any means, just over a hundred. But the fact that they let twenty-somethings on a crazy mission like this? Absolutely baffling, only slightly less so when you factor in the age exchange rate. Magnus and Lucretia? _Babies!_

Barry, on the other hand? She still did a double take at hearing his age; the amount of research he had under his belt was impressive for only a few decades. But it was nice to know that the human in the labs with her was one with plenty of experience. And if she maybe thought he was a little cute? Good to know he wasn't _that_ young (in Century Equivalence, anyways). 

So maybe it's not entirely the shot (Pan, Merle, what _was_ that?) that's got her turned to Barry and leaning on her hand. "Ya play pool, Bluejeans? I won't take your shoes, promise."

Barry laughs. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but at this point _sure he'll play pool_. "Well, I do have a bonus pair now, so sure," he answers. He gets up from his seat and tails her as they head toward a vacant pool table. He racks up the balls and selects a cue, then steps back. "Ladies first," he says graciously, with a hint of a smirk.

She chalks her cue, taking her sweet time while he sets up. "Ohh, I see we have a _gentleman_ among us!" She sidles past him to get that good angle, and if she's caught looking like a snack in the process, so be it. She's got two months on a sick spaceship to flirt with a cute nerd, and if shit breaks bad? The mission's got a set end date. No reason not to see what comes of a little flirting. 

The balls scatter, two striped numbers catching in opposite corner holes. She straightens up, rests against her cue. "Looks like you're solids, my guy."

Barry watches as Lup lines up her shot. Being called a gentleman is flattering, considering that his thoughts are heading in a pretty ungentlemanly direction at the sight of Lup leaning so far over the table, tail flicking and face betraying concentration as she pulls the cue back and pushes it forward in a quick, clean motion.

This woman could wipe the floor with him.

Yeah, definitely ungentlemanly thoughts now.

He steps up to the table. Here goes? "Solids it is," he says

There's some solid points had by all, Taako and Magnus even strike up a bet at one point, before getting pulled out to dance by some rather lucky gentlemen. Lup tries not to kick his ass too terribly, _accidentally_ lining up a shot for him here or there. Still, he's got several balls on the table by the time she just can't in good conscience hold onto the façade. Her last ball plinks into the basket, and she turns back to Barry with an expression reading, Oops? 

She offers a hand, trying and failing not to grin. "Good game, sailor. Not too shabby."

Oh, fuck, that's...she's smiling as she congratulates him. Barry shakes her hand, face reddening a little. "Good game," he replies. "You're, uh, really good? I'm kinda glad you felt like giving me shoes instead of the other way around," he jokes.

It looks like a bit of the liquor has gone to Barry's cheeks, and dang, that's kinda cute huh... 

Lup reracks the balls, leaving him to shelve the cues. "I've got a very particular set of skills, Bart. Maybe when we get back Material-side I'll teach ya a thing or two. I'm sure you've got some skills to share, yeah?" She clinks her nearly empty glass with his, before swigging the remainder. To get a good night’s sleep, or to rope the guys into saké-bombs...

Barry briefly allows himself to picture what Lup teaching him pool might involve. She’d have to get close, probably, guide his hands. He could let her put his hands where she wants them...he could let her put her hands wher _ever_ she wants them...

Barry briefly short circuits. His face breaks into a dopey little grin as his brain-to-mouth filter gives up the ghost. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says before he can stop himself, then clinks his glass against hers and joins her in finishing their drinks.

It’s fine. It’s fine and it will be fine, it’s just that she’s beautiful and skilled and her presence kinda feels like sunlight, that’s all.

He’ll just work with her on this mission for a couple of months and then come back and...hey, well now Barry’s blushing for real.

“I’m sure we can come up with something, I’ll just have to figure out something you don’t already know, smartie,” he teases.

Unfortunately, Lup's good sense wins out. That, and it looks like Magnus is about point-five seconds from walloping some guy. Not that he can't hold his own, but she'd have to be at least this sober to break that whole thing up once it gets going. 

But then she looks back from the impending fight to catch his words and _ohh that's not fair at all_ . She has to stop herself from breaking into the softest look imaginable because his tipsy little smile is _doing things_ to her. And where did that sly tone come from, Barold?

"Yeah, yeah, uhmm... Necro sounds pretty uhh-- pretty baller. I'm sure you could teach me a thing or two there..." She can feel her own blush rising-- totally the drink. Totally. "We should uhh... I should probably make sure Mags doesn't hurt anybody too bad. Uhh... see ya tomorrow?" Smooth. Lup turns tail and heads off to break up the fight that's just started, actual literal tail swatting empty air.

“Tomorrow.” Barry stands a little dumbstruck for a few seconds as he watches her walk away. She inserts herself into the fight, pulling focus, separating, right in the middle of chaos she creates calm. She’s incredible.

Barry shakes himself and puts down his glass to follow. Lup’s already got the fight halted, but there’s still some felt tension, cuts and bruises, the residue conflict leaves in a space. He checks in with his new crewmates. No one seriously hurt, no property damage. He feels deeply responsible for and to these people already.

She moved so quickly to end that fight. She’s amazing.

It will be fine, she’s just absolutely radiant and Barry can’t look away or stop grinning, that’s all. It’ll be easier sober, surely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starblaster’s crew takes off for an unprecedented voyage through the planes.
> 
> No one’s ever seen anything like this.
> 
> Oh SHIT.

The world is ending, and Lup can't look away. 

Everything had gone perfectly with lift-off, all systems working well. And that hadn't changed. What had changed is everything going on below them. Somewhere behind her, someone is yelling for Captain Davenport to _Stop! Turn around!_ but she knows he'll refuse. He's right, she thinks, holding the rail of the deck with white knuckles. Tendrils of black descend from the sky, opalescent colours pouring down from far above even the Starblaster. Every single building, person, carriage in sight is overcome. It's like watching tar spread-- excruciatingly slow, yet too inevitable to stop. 

The Starblaster breaks through the clouds. And there's silence. 

Lup clings to Taako, still too stunned for words. The first words she hears before pandemonium erupts on the deck are whispered Elvish in her ear. " _What the fuck was that..._ "

Barry watches in horror, feeling his chest constrict. _Everything_.

He has to breathe, he’ll pass out, he’ll be no help to anyone unconscious on the floor. Are the others okay? What can he do? He has to do something or else—

His heart races. His pulse roars. But he still hears the voice of his thoughts breaking through like a tiny, frightened little boy. _Mom?_

_Not now._

He forces himself to walk, the ship had moved so fast, it was rough getting through the clouds. Check in.

Oho, ohoho the panic attack he has later will be a doozy, and the insomnia to follow may never end.

_Not now._

He makes it the few steps he wants to go. He hears the frantic radio calls Davenport sends and the complete, eerie silence that answers. He faces Lup and Taako, clinging to each other. “Are you—“ _okay? Fuck no they’re not, with good reason, and neither is he_. “Are you hurt or anything? Gods—“

Taako's the first to turn, Lup not quite registering his words with all the static in her mind. _Everyone, every person, every parent, every child..._ Taako gives her hand a squeeze, then charges toward the cockpit, the stream of profanity switching into Common as he gets a grip on the situation and storms in to confront Davenport. 

Lup blinks, Barold's looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry I didn't... are you-- What _was_ that?" Her thoughts are getting jumbled with her words, her face nothing but distraught confusion. "That's not... that's deffo not just... just what _happens_ when you leave a plane that-- that was--" She searches Barry's face for answers she knows he can't give her. His is a mask of frantic terror, causing her to flick her gaze to the rest of her crewmates. No one seems hurt, at least not physically, but it's impossible to tell from here. 

She pries her hands from the guardrail, gently, carefully placing one on Barry's arm. "We should check on everyone. Then... then figure out what the hell just happened. There's got to be an answer." She gives his arm a gentle squeeze, like her brother does for her. "This isn't the end."

Lup’s hand on his arm brings Barry back to himself. Focus. Lup says this isn’t the end. Barry doesn’t believe that when he says it to himself. Whether she believes it when she says it, he can’t say. But Barry can, just maybe, believe it from her. That’ll have to work for now.

 _You wanted to go beyond the limits, motherfucker? Here we go,_ he tells himself.

He nods and swallows. “Right,” he agrees. “Not the end, just a change.” He feels cold in a way that can’t possibly be _good_ or _normal_. Lup’s touch is warm.

“If you two can check on Davenport and Lucretia I’ll check on Magnus and Merle. Whatever just happened, it didn’t _get_ us, so that’s a point in our favor.” When he’s alone in his bunk tonight Barry is going to _break_ , he can feel it. “We’ve got this, it’s okay,” he lies.

"We've got this. _You've_ got this." Whether she says this to herself or Barry, even she's not certain. "Bring Mags and Merle to the flightdeck, we need to debrief, yeah? Yeah. Okay." _Right. Get it together Lup. We can break down later. Flight Officer Mode._ She gives Barry's arm a final tap, and bolts for the cockpit. She catches Lucretia on the way, her hands shaking as she finishes chronicling the horrors they'd just witnessed. If she hugs Luci now, Lup's gonna break, so she settles for the same gentle hand on her shoulder, and pulls her through the door. 

Barry takes another deep breath and shoves back another overwhelming wave of grief and fear. 

Magnus is weeping, frustratedly trying to hold it together. He can't punch this. "Mags, come on, we've gotta go debrief with the captain," he says. Barry's voice sounds firm and steady, nothing like the terrible tremors he feels just beneath his skin. "We're gonna figure this out, but it's gonna take all of us, bud."

By the time Barry gets to Merle, he finds him already headed for the cockpit, muttering about _never having seen anything like this_ under his breath. They head through the door.

Captain Davenport, a pilot through and through, is the face of absolute tension. He's got a white knuckle grip on the wheel, eyes darting between several different readouts but focused nonetheless. The girls hurry through the door to find Taako already shouting in about three different dialects, Davenport doing his best to retort whilst making sure the ship is out of immediate danger. 

"I don't _know_ what that thing was, _Officer Tacco_. I'll have you remember I speak Dwarvish, so watch your language."

"Captain." Lup shoots her brother a warning look. There's a time and a place for blame and yelling, and just past the maw of death is _neither_ . "I assume you saw that? The others are coming, but... What do we _do_ from here?"

Captain Davenport draws in a strained breath. His crew's accounted for, no visible blood. As things go, that's certainly a good place to start. "Alright. It's apparent that something's happened back down Material-Side. It's cut off comms. It looks damn nasty, guys. We have provisions for two months, the bond engine will hold out even longer. First priority is finding somewhere stable to land and trying to contact the Institute again. Ideally...not to speak this into being, but ideally that place should have resources in case we can't make contact. We're going to stay calm and work together." He pauses. "We're responsible for each other and I'm responsible for all of you. If worst comes to worst, I'll err on the side of protecting _us_ , and we may have to let the dead bury their own dead."

Barry nods slowly, joining in the scattered chorus of acknowledgment. There's nothing to do but follow the captain's orders and hope for the best.

It's Lucretia who speaks up first. Amongst the somber nods and mumbled _Ayes_ , "What can we do, Captain?" 

If there was energy amongst them for smiles, Lup would try. But there's only enough to nod and listen to Davenport give orders. With her knowledge of physics and Taako's transmuting prowess, they're sent with the human guys to check the ship for damage, fix what they can, and report back. Lucretia gets an eye on the readouts, she and Merle tasked with finding a suitable landing space while Davenport keeps everything in the air. Another round of affirmatives, and they disperse. 

The lower deck of the Starblaster is eerie, after the momentary chaos they'd all just witnessed. Metal creaks and arcane pipes groan, but hardly anyone speaks. Lup holds Taako's hand firmly in her own, the last piece of a burning home she won't let go of. 

After a while, there's a crackling from above as their captain's voice wades through static over the intercoms. "Away team, do you read? Radio back, let's see how bad this thing kicked our comms."

Relief spreads through Barry's chest. They may not have contact with home, but they can still communicate with each other. "Loud and clear, captain, checking things out now," he answers. He starts inspecting the ship, noting occasional spots where what looks like wear and tear from leaving the atmosphere will need patching. He makes his way toward the stern--oh, fuck, alright then. "Guys, come check this out," he calls to Magnus and the twins. As they draw close, he gestures to a nasty gash through one of the metal plates making up the ship's hull. "This must've been that bigger jolt, I'm hoping it's just the plate here and not any of the stuff underneath? Is that something you can fix?"

Taako looks it over, arms crossed in a futile attempt at nonchalance. "'S long as it's just this plate, no big, but that seems unlikely--" He's cut off as Lup pries a piece of metal sheeting away from the gash and sticks nearly the whole top half of her body through the hole. There's a flicker behind the crack and the smell of sulfur burning, and after a minute of looking around, her tail bristles. Her voice is muffled, but the click of her radio sends a louder stream sounding from Taako's belt. 

" _Uhh, we've got more than just a scrape, kiddos. Taako, can you fix this in the air_?"

He huffs, and pokes his head in beside her. There's a long whistle as he sees what she does; a sizable gash in the hull, clean through the outer layer and some of the wiring. He signs something to her, and it looks like she signs back, then he removes himself from the innards of the ship. 

"So, cha'boi can deffo fix that hole once we're planet-side, but with the size of shit I'd have to transmute back and forth... it'd leave the hull way too unstable. Lup can weld it temporarily? But somebody's gonna have to help her get an angle-- no way to reach the mess without tearing up this side more. Bertrand, you could probably fit through that hole, ya think you can lift her?"

"I can--yeah, no problem, just show me where you need me to be, I'll get there," Barry says. So just? Lift her, then, just? Take full responsibility for bearing her weight and making sure she's safe, so just...?

So no different than every impulse he's had since last night, _excellent_ , okay. Barry climbs in and positions himself where Taako indicates, then turns to Lup and extends his arms a little awkwardly in invitation, unwilling to just grab her and lift her without warning or agreement. "I've got you. Trust me?" he says.

"Yeah, course." Lup climbs fully into the bowels of the hull, bracing her feet on a support beam, and guiding Barry in. "If you can just... yeah right there, and your other foot... yeah, perfect. You steady? Just uhh, just basically make sure I don't fall into the wall, y'know? Easy-peasy." She gives a nervous laugh, and readies her spell components, "I trust you. Let's get this girl patched up." 

There's quite a bit of shifting; eventually he hoists her up and she settles on his shoulders in the cramped space between walls, leaning a bit precariously into the wind whipping their hair. "Don't uhh.. This is gonna be bright." She covers her eyes with one arm, and snaps the dusting of iron powder on her fingers. Heat bursts from her palm, pushing her back before she rights herself, hand firm on Barry's shoulder. The small space quickly feels sweltering, flames licking up the sides of the wall and support beams, but the blast does its job. Slowly, the warped metal edges glow red, then gold, then white hot. Lup grits her teeth; spell shaping can only do so much with prolonged contact, and fire knows no forgiveness. Luckily, Lup's spells burn quick and bright, and it only takes a minute or two for the gash in the hull to meld sloppily back together. 

Barry obligingly shifts where she guides him, holding her steady and sure. He closes his eyes, turning his head down and away from her burst of flame. He feels the tension in her muscles as she concentrates, taming and guiding the fire to her whim, mending the gash.

Lup slumps, careful not to touch Barry with her still-warm hand as she finds her breath. "Should hold. 'Least for now. You, uh, still good down there?"

She's amazing. She sees a terrifying force and manipulates it into a tool or means of comfort.

"I'm good, you did great," he answers. He gently lifts her down, leaving his big hands around her waist until he's sure that she's steady. "You good?"

She's a bit wobbly as she finds her footing, been a long time since she'd held something that pointed for that long. But she flexes her fingers, shakes her hand a little, and nods. "Good. Thanks." It's harder to see now, what with the hole mended and the smouldering metal fading, so her small smile may be lost on him. They could save this little piece. She's got to keep telling herself they can save more. They've got to. 

It's a little easier for both of them to clamber back into the hall, a little hoist from him and a hand up from her. They report back to Davenport, and further inspection shows that any other damage seems cosmetic. Mostly on the outside, and nothing that can't wait until they land. If only landing were that simple.

\--CYCLE 1--

Eventually, they do find a place to land. Captain Davenport sets the ship down in a clearing, and the crew begins to get the lay of the land.

One thing's for sure: it's not home.

It's entirely populated by animals, for one, many of whom seem understandably skittish with regard to the new arrivals.

A few days pass in this new plane. It's Material, but it's not the place they left, covered in impossibly radiant tar-like destruction. But the atmosphere is breathable and the wildlife don't seem hostile so much as nervous, so they stay. 

And one by one, they break. 

Lup's despair comes early and often, masked as menial frustrations and late nights and early morning jogs. She wants to fix this; to find something that will take them back, to fight that awful darkness, to do _something_. But all that's here is tall grass and frightened animals.

Barry itches to find out more: have there ever been civilizations here besides the animals? Anyone humanoid? He's still overwhelmed and consumed by grief, they all are. His curiosity can't be fully quashed, though the situation seems bleaker by the day.

Then Barry makes a throwaway comment at breakfast, and it's all full speed from there.

"Pity we can't just _ask_ them," he muses, toying with his fork.

Lup stops, fork mid-way to her mouth. She goes to speak, once, twice, but ends up brows furrowed, biting her tongue. Maybe it's the missing sleep, or maybe she's going a little stir-crazy aboard this ship; there's no reason to play in this space. It's bullshit. _Unless…_  
"Y'know what? Why can't we? We're.. we're fuckin'.. Scientists! And-and linguists?" Taako raises a brow to Barry, distracted from his cuticles by _whatever the hell_ his sister's going off about. "And we don't even-- who says these animals are _anything_ like we know? Maybe we _do_ just ask? I mean... It's not like we're making progress with anything else..."

Barry blinks and tries to process this. He’s running on a bit of a lag. Lying awake, curled around a pillow, shaking and short of breath hasn’t helped. The bubble of rage threatening to break out of him but unsure who or what to target _super_ hasn’t helped. Whatever that thing was, it took his home and it took his mother. It took _everything_. There’s not a person to forgive or a disease to fight or old age to learn to accept. There’s no justice to witness or dispense. There’s just a load of overwhelming pain and sleep broken by nightmares and unfocused fog in his waking hours. So when Lup latches onto his idea, he laughs.

It feels good to laugh, like steam pouring out of a release valve.

“We should just do it,” he laughs. “Taako, you in? Gods, I wonder what they think of us? We just landed on their—we’re aliens to them? Holy shit!” He takes another bite, one that doesn’t taste like dust in his mouth this time.

"We're the fuckin' aliens... yeah! Yeah, like what's the worst that happens? Another dead end? And if it works, we'd be like... the first people to talk to animals? Without a spell? That'd be fuckin _buckwild!_ " She's laughing too, now. Taako raises an eyebrow, then stabs a piece of bacon with a shrug. 

"Fuck it, why not."

\---

That afternoon finds three nerds trekking into the trees, with the excuse of "taking environmental samples", and slowly gaining the trust of a family of mongeese. _Mongooses? Etymology's unclear._ Lup offers a variety of foodstuffs, and when one of the smaller critters comes to take a piece of bacon, she offers her hand to sniff. 

"Hey there. I-- Uhh, I'm Lup?" She points to herself, then at the other two. "That's Taako, and Barry." She gives Barry a look like _What now?_

Barry sits down in the grass, cross legged. The mongoose is tiny compared to all of them, maybe it’s best that he get a little closer to their level. “Hi, I’m Barry. You, uh, like that bacon, huh?” The mongoose lets out a string of sounds, examining Barry’s hands for signs of more bacon. “What’s your name?” This feels a little silly, but icebreakers are silly enough in Common, anyway. The mongoose tilts their head and repeats the first sound, then a different sound afterward. Huh.

Barry picks up his notebook from the grass. He tries to match the first little peeping-grunting sound. “Is that you?” he asks. How does he write this down, even? The mongoose chitters at him again.

Barry smiles. He scrawls a clef and a note and a phoneme beneath it. They can analyze it more as they go. “It’s nice to meet you,” he chuckles.

Lup tries the first little peep sound, ignoring Taako's snort. The little mongoose seems to get where she's going, and repeats the first sound again. She smiles at Barry, and peeps at him, trying not to laugh. This is so silly, trying to talk to animals. But the mongoose at least doesn't seem to mind, and peeps back at the two of them until they can sort of mimic the sound. 

She's stuck on whether to even try to notate the sounds they're hearing. A peek at Barry's notes show... music? No, no, he's noting pitch and.. the closest phoneme? Alright okay, that might be something. She tries for a different approach, not sure in what way these guys even differentiate their sounds. Words? Unclear. She motions Taako over, drawing out a simple articulator map. He nods back, marking the place of production for the vowel(?) of the little peep sound, and Lup notes down manner and voicing for the rest. Together they cobble together a decent idea of the sound. They'd have to cross reference with mongeesian articulators but... it's a start. 

The critter tilts its head, sniffing around the two notebooks. Lup gives it a smile, hoping that the gesture crosses the cultural boundary, and gestures to the mongoose. " _peep?_ "

Barry turns to Lup with a smile. “I think they like us,” he says. She and Taako are making notes, too, different from his. Between them it looks like they’re getting a decent picture of how the sounds are made and what they sound like when they are. “Or the bacon, at least.” It’s a solid start, and even if they can’t manage to get all the way to having a full conversation (yet?) it’s good to work on something and at least _try._

"Must be the bacon," she smiles. The little guy stands and gives the same _peep_ followed by a series of other chitterings. They do their best to notate them, Taako filling in the factors Lup can't quite make out. It's not a lot, compared to like, extant linguistic studies on Common? But for basically first contact, she'll take it. Several more chitters, and the mongoose scratches a mark in the dirt. It snatches an egg from the collection of breakfast foods, and darts into a bush.

Barry waves after the little creature, then turns back to Lup. “This is really cool, when we go back, uh, can you show me more of how this works?” he asks, indicating her notes.

Lup sits back on her heels, and laughs. What are they doing? That mark must _mean_ something, right? But _what_? She copies it down just in case. "Yeah, totally. The notation and stuff is pretty easy, honestly? Once you know the anatomy. You're probably super familiar with like, people anatomy, yeah?"

Barry’s face reddens a little at the connection his brain makes, which, in context, is definitely not what she means? “Yeah, just not this notation? But if I get what you’re doing, it looks like it gives us a really good picture of how they’re making the sounds. Mine’s kinda quick and dirty basics, rough pitch, duration, phoneme, but this gives us a lot of info I can’t really capture.” 

Gods, she’s amazing, and that thought is entirely due to her sharp mind and definitely has nothing to do with _people anatomy._ Lup is his crewmate; she’s off limits.

Always did want to see what was past those limits, huh, buddy?

Barry shakes himself free from that train of thought. There’s no way Lup would return his interest, she’s just friendly. He’s seen how kind she is to the others, too, it’s just how she is. _Friends_ is okay though, right? Barry can live with that.

"Yeah, no, you got like... probably the right bits? I just didn't want our notations to overlap too much, cause like... y'know, get all the parameters you can, right?" Her smile is a little apprehensive, like maybe she doesn't quite believe what she says. It might have been better to get two sets of notes of the same style for comparison, _fuck, I could have had Taako do phonology and I do that..._ Next time, she has to tell herself. You can only improve in the future. _Shit_. 

Gods, and Barry's totally got the right idea, right? Who says mongooses even understand the concepts of _vowels_ ? What the fuck. Pitch and duration, now that’s smart. Easily observable, easily reproduced given the possible variances. _Dammit._ She furrows a brow. Next time. 

"Let's-- let's get back to base, yeah? We can go over these after dinner, if you want? compare notes?" Taako notes that he has some important something to go over with the captain, but that they can, quote, _go off, I guess_.

Barry sees that little furrow to her brow. Wait, doesn’t she know that what she’s doing is brilliant? “I look forward to it,” he says sincerely. Will what she’s noted show the difference between a peep and a snarl, maybe? That probably makes a huge difference, and it wouldn’t be apparent in his notes at all outside of some sort of subjective descriptor he might jot down. Imagine trying to work off of shit like “happy chirp” or “kinda hostile growl (different from the _other_ growl)”? That would be frustrating as all hell.

He wishes that he could smooth that little furrow out. Maybe kiss there until the tension melts away.

Maybe instead he can be a godsdamned professional for five minutes and appreciate what she’s bringing to this collaboration?

He breaks into a smile. “I’m really excited for this,” he says, his tone trying for a statement of fact but landing squarely on a confession. “Thanks for coming out here and, uh, indulging me.”

"Dude, of course. If this leads somewhere, which like, it deffo might, it's gonna be so cool?" She packs up, leaving the rest of the bacon (they seemed to like it, maybe they'll take it as a gift?), and follows Taako's march to the ship. "Like, can you _imagine_ being able to talk to these guys? Maybe figure out if there used to be people here, if there's dangers we haven't noticed yet? It's a long shot, but these guys could be integral to our whole survival thing here until we can..." Lup's ears pin back, and she swallows the end of that sentence. _Get back._ Because they probably can't, can they? Everyone saw the same thing. There's likely nothing to go back to. 

Barry’s chest fills with warmth at her words, only to squeeze painfully and abruptly as she trails off. She didn’t _remind_ him, he never forgot. But _It’s. Not. Fair!_ It’s not fair to any of them, and Lup should never have to wear that look of pain and grief. He swallows and manages after a second to inhale deeply through his nose.

Is she gonna just...break right here? He can’t, then, his turn can be later, when he won’t make things worse for anyone else. If she needs a place to lean, he’ll be here.

But she doesn’t. They head back together.

They return to find the rest of the crew finishing up minor repairs to the hull. The haphazard soldering job had held until they could land, but now that there seemed to be a modicum of safety they had been able to actually patch things up. Lup offers to cook dinner so Taako can help transmute metals and things, and she's a ghost until dinner. 

Mostly because she spends at least twenty minutes breaking down in the pantry. They'd all done it at one time or another; Magnus could be found late some nights with a makeshift punching bag hung from a tree, Merle sat in stoic silence at the bank of a nearby watering hole. Lup had more than once wandered into the kitchen to start breakfast, only to find Lucretia stirring a cup of tea long gone cold, vacant tear-stained eyes staring off to nothing. They all grieved in their own ways. They had to. 

So if Lup's ears hang low and she sniffles a little as people file in from their work, no one says anything about it.

Barry offers an extra pair of hands to repair the ship, leaving his body tired and his mind occupied. As he sits down to dinner with the rest, he doesn’t say shit about how his heart drops to see the traces of Lup’s tears not fully hidden. 

But he does offer an excited smile afterward as he pulls out his notebook. “Alright, let’s hit it,” he says. “Did you notice they kinda start off the same mostly?”

When plates are cleared and Barry pulls out his notes, Lup actually does smile. Even with the uncertain future looming before them, he still cares enough to want to learn. From the training labs before the mission to this very second, Barry had never lost his curiosity-- always prodding the world for answers. And that excitement is a contagion. She brings out her notes too, and points out her representation of the sound in question. 

"Yeah, this one here. I think... Y'know what if they were giving us like... I don't know, like a name? Like what if this bit is a-- like a name or like the classifier for "mongoose" or something? I mean, our first instinct was to introduce ourselves, right? I think we'd need to learn to speak to it to confirm though..."

She flips through the pages, and starts scratching out a chart of some sort. Rows and columns, with x's scattered throughout. "So I don't like, know the respiratory and like mouth construction of a mongoose? If these are even like _our_ understanding of mongooses? But from what I can tell, I _think_ these are the sounds they can make. At least that we've heard. If we can get an exhaustive list of those, and approximate them ourselves? We stand a good chance of figuring out words."

Barry watches as Lup fills in the chart, listening intently. It’s precise and thorough; there are so many things they still don’t know but what they do she’s meticulously laid out. It’s fascinating to see what they heard that afternoon rendered visually, captured in a way that he can break down and rearrange and put together until the meaning shows itself. One of the big things occupying Barry’s overthoughts as the three of them had headed out to try was the added challenge that trying to learn an unknown language without a translator or even a written alphabet presented. Lup’s work was giving them a solid foundation to work from.

“That’s so cool, just imagine,” Barry muses. “What if it is their name? We’ll have to talk to some others and see if they lead with a different sound. This is really helpful, too, we can start to figure whether they always make the same sound when we’re there, or when we give them bacon vs. eggs, or— _I wonder if they’ve named us?_ ” He laughs. “Oh my gods, what are our mongoose names?”

" _Pfft_ , they've totally given us mongoose names. Fuckin' imagine, we figure this out, natch, and then we have to tell the crew about our fucking _mongoose-sonas_." She snorts. 

If there's one thing she's learned in the months of training and the days stuck on this plane, it's that Barry's a better research partner than Lup ever expected. His theories might be outlandish at times, but he’s _fun_. And when you're bright as all hell like him? A little fun is deserved. 

Maybe if they weren't stranded indefinitely on a foreign plane, Lup would entertain the idea of all the ways they might have fun in the lab. But they definitely are, and Lup is _not_ about to broach that subject without foreseeable outs for everyone involved. 

"You uhh, still want me to show you these articulator charts? Then we can try to reproduce these sounds, yeah?" She starts drawing up a blank one, focusing on _not_ thinking about what else articulators might be good for.

“Yeah, definitely! Show me what you’ve got, I’m your student,” Barry answers. It’s not pool back home, this is...better in some ways, worse in others. Mostly good? It’s a shitty situation, but they’re making the best of it.

He focuses in on what she shows him. Her hands are confident, drawing up the chart.

He would be so lucky to hold those hands.

 _Focus, ride it out, don’t be a creep,_ Barry chides himself. She is still technically his coworker, and this is work—or is it? If the seven of them are the only ones left from their plane, at what point do they just say fuck the rules? What rules even apply in the first place, with work overlapping with a shared living space? At this point the only rule Barry cares about is to make sure he doesn’t make Lup uncomfortable—isn’t that what rules are for anyhow? To keep folks from hurting each other?

 _Articulator charts,_ Barry reminds himself emphatically. He turns to a clean page in his own notebook, ready to take notes. “Take it away, Professor,” he says playfully.

There's a witty one-liner somewhere in there about student-teacher something or other, but she can't bring herself to make it when he looks so earnest. So she just laughs, and launches into lecture mode. The bigger of the two charts is actually easiest to explain-- the rows are the manner of production (stops, fricatives, clicks), and the columns are placing. She runs him through a couple of basic sounds in Common, and how they'd be classified, and within a few minutes he seems to have a decent handle on it. 

The next little drawing is all trapezoidal, divided with a sort of octothorpe into nine sections. "Okay, so the last thing was for consonants, right-- this is for the vowels. It's basically like. A mouth? See, the top is the roof of your mouth, this slanty bit on the left is the front. And wherever the tongue is when the vowel is produced, that's where the symbol goes. That track? So an _eeee_ \--" she points to a little _i_ in the upper left," --goes up in the front top-- see like, say _eeee_ , and you can feel your tongue go right up there. It feels silly to do, but a lot of phonetics is making silly noises, so..." She shrugs, "Stops feelin' silly after a while."

Barry tries the same _eeee_ sound, and sure enough, his tongue does as she describes. He’s never really thought about this, not consciously like this anyway. He supposes he’s made these sounds billions of times over, but always as part of a whole, only thought of in words and sentences like _hello_ and _goodbye_ and what goes between them. It’s amazing to see something he takes for granted the subject of careful analysis.

He runs through more vowels with her, nodding and jotting quick notes. “This is, uh, it’s amazing, like I do this without thinking about it all the time? That’s wild,” he finally says. He gives her a look. “All this _and_ Chem _and_ Evocation _and_ you cook? A renaissance woman,” he teases lightly.

She chuckles, giving a humble little half bow. “Thank you, thank you, I try. But hey, now you’re gonna have this to add to _your_ repertoire, yeah?” She gives him a friendly little punch in the arm, complete with a coy little smile. For possibly the first time since they left Tüson, it feels like some of the weight of the world that had been pressing down around them has shifted. It’s not entirely lifted, but maybe when they work together, they can shoulder some of it together. Working toward a common goal, the situation seems a little less hopeless.

And Lup finds it easier to be a little vulnerable. “Hey, uhh, thank you? For taking the time to learn this? I know it’s not like, your wheelhouse? But I’m glad we can do something productive here. Y’know?” There’s still a sad something to her eyes, but it’s less volatile, further from spilling over. 

Barry grins at her playful punch, softening to her words. "Of course," he says. "Thank you for teaching it to me, I'm excited to try it out some tomorrow. I know it's a little wild, and to tell you the truth it was just kind of, uh, you know, a kind of a sleep-deprived thought, but this makes me think that we might be able to get somewhere." 

Lup leans on the table, chin in hand. Yeah, maybe they can get somewhere with all of this. And if not? Well, she feels a little less like they're working towards nothing out here. Like a break from futility. Like even if it's not the Big Thing, it's  _ something _ . Maybe it'll lift some of the weight from Barry's shoulders too.  
  
“Right," She straightens up, matching his hopeful grin. " So, phonemes. Here, pop quiz time,” she points to one of the consonant marks. “Velar stop, which sound’s that in Common?”

His nose wrinkles. "Oh nooooo, a pop quiz?" he jokes. "Velar stop, velar stop," he mutters, sifting back through the sounds they've covered. "G, like in _got it?_ " he answers.

She watches him form the word, thankful for the clarification he gives. So many sounds look the same on the mouth, parsing them without context is _difficult_. But even in the few weeks they'd known each other, the crew had already adapted pretty well to accommodating each other's quirks and needs. 

"Yep, _got it_." She nods, beaming at his quick uptake. She quizzes him on a few more and Barry passes with flying colours-- a model student. They take a bit of time to parse through some of the sounds they'd noted, trying and failing to fit the "consonants" into the pre-made chart. There's a lot of awful reproductions made by both parties, and Lup's notes are a mess of rubbed out and rewritten letters.

"Okay, this is... It might just be better to call it a night, get a fresh set of eyes on it tomorrow. I'll run what we have by Taako and see if he can make heads or tails of it, but this.. _click-trill_ ? I don't think we've even got the right anatomy to _do_ that, let alone figure out how _they_ do." She sighs, leaning back in her chair. They've made real progress, but Fantasy Rome wasn't built in a day. "Want to try again after breakfast? Maybe see if we can bribe them with bacon again."

Barry rubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, agreed," he says. "It'll look clearer after some rest. This is a lot for one day, though, go _us_ ." This is helping. Having work to do, sunlight and fresh air, people who expect him to get up and be a person instead of just, _not that_ , all of it's helping him keep it together. Hell, between mongoose time and the work on the ship, he may even be worn out enough to sleep a bit tonight.

He gathers up his notes and caps his pen. He stands awkwardly, hesitating. Do they...say goodbye? Goodnight? Walk back toward the sleeping quarters together? Shake hands? Fortunate that Barry's decided to ignore the old rules, because there weren't any for this situation anyhow.

He holds up a hand and grins sheepishly. "High-five?" he asks.

She snorts, and goes in for the high-five. "Yeah, go us!" She packs up, following Barry out and around to the corridor of crew quarters. They split off into their own rooms, Lup giving a little wave and a "Goodnight". Taako's already in bed, luckily not yet meditating. Lup tosses her notebook to him, and after some half-assed grumbling, he agrees to look it over while she gets her shower on. 

Twenty minutes of uninterrupted hot water is just what she needs. The cramped shower stall fogs quickly, and she can almost pretend she's back in the dorms; she'll come out to smell Ko whipping up pancakes, maybe hear him chatting away with one of the human squad early for breakfast. There's a few minutes where she lets herself live in that fantasy.

But then Merle's hollering through the door that she's taking all the hot water, and the daydream fizzles and dies. 

Taako doesn't seem to have much luck besides what they'd already figured out, besides a suggestion that maybe this sound isn't so much a stop as a tap, clearing up one of many questions, and bringing up more. She prestidigitates her hair dry, too tired to wait, and collapses into actual, human-style sleep.

Barry heads back to the crew quarters, dread settling in. He hates that night's falling. Night means darkness. It means the center of a bed, hunkered under blankets, alone, and relentlessly, traitorously awake. At least it had back home. That was par for the course, this was _worse_. He reluctantly returns Lup's wave goodnight and lets himself into his room.

The days since launch were hard on all of them, but for Barry, daytime was easy mode. He had a simple method to avoiding breaking down constantly: always be near someone else who might break down _first_ , then focus all his energy on making sure they were okay. Figure out what they need, get it, make it happen, an endless fetch quest of comforts for his chosen people. "Thanks, Barry, you're a lifesaver." "Aw, shucks," shrug it off, it’s just what friends do, _please distract me again._

He kicks off his jeans, pulls off his shirt. He'll shower in the morning. He grabs some pajamas, mechanically pulls them on, sets his glasses on the night table, crawls under the covers and squeezes his eyes shut and waits tensely, finally falling into a light slumber much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: They’re off, folks! Time to try to find a new normal, looks like. Hope everyone reading this is staying in and taking precautions, we love y’all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication is key, especially when you’ve got a crush on your crewmate. Maybe add some more languages? Is that anything?

Days pass on this plane, then weeks, and sooner than they’d like to admit a handful of months have come and gone. The ship has been repaired, but attempts to leave the plane were met with... nothing. It seems the only plane in existence is the one they’ve found refuge on. Captain Davenport has resolved to try again periodically, but hope is a rare commodity aboard the Starblaster.

Project Peep, as it’s been lovingly named, is a welcome haven from _thinking about it_ . Once repairs have been finished, Lup, Taako, and Barry find themselves working day and night to decode _clicks_ and _chirrups_ . They can produce mooooost of the sounds (Taako cheats with prestidigitation for a certain series of trills, but it’s _fine_ ). They’ve even figured out the meaning of a decent amount of calls. But that damned first _peep_ , a name, a greeting? Remains elusive.

Lup finds herself pouring over notes, her third coffee of the morning dangerously close to empty. Barry finds her muttering and trilling to herself in the quiet of the lab.

Barry waves to grab her attention, then peeps playfully in greeting. “It’s just me, thought I’d run through what we’ve got again. Is that anything? Greeting?” he asks. It doesn’t sound quite right in context, those initial peeps are still murky in their meaning. He’s beginning to suspect the answer is somewhere at the juncture of culture and function. Why even chatter continuously like they do? It seems a little overwhelming. How do they know who’s saying what and if it’s important at all?

“Any luck so far?” he asks.

She blinks up at the door, and peeps back in response. "Not really? I'm starting to think it's a cultural thing? Or like... Okay hear me out-- I think you might have been right with the pitch thing." She flips back to notes from back in the beginning. Barry's version of noting pitch and phoneme had sort of petered out after most phonemes showed consistent frequencies, but after a _lot_ of coffee and a couple sleepless nights, Lup had a theory. 

"Okay, what if, this peep? It's _similar_ by everyone that makes it, but not _the same_. Maybe," She's running her fingers through her hair-- they're still grasping at straws at this point. If they can't figure this peep out, can't get it to fit with their theories, it's just that much harder to justify that they're right about everything else.

" _Maybe_ , the pitch has something to do with it. Like, everyone makes the same base syllable, and that holds meaning, but the _variations_ tell you _who_ said it. Like, when everyone's chittering at once, like they do, this peep might tell them who's talking? Does that make sense?"

Barry leans in to look over the notes. That makes sense, people sound different from each other even when they say the same thing. He nods. "I think you're on to something," he says. "Like think about it, if we split up and used the radios? We'd have to check in and say who was talking and what was going on. Oh my gods, that's probably exactly what it is, like a name or call sign and the pitch difference is how you know."

She twiddles her pen in her fingers, watching his words. "Yeah, right? And maybe it's not a name, maybe a title? Something characteristic? But it's my leading theory at the moment."

He breaks into an excited grin. They were doing something no one else ever had done! "Great job, I can't wait for us to try this out! Maybe they'll assign us our own pitches," he says. Two trains of thought split off here: _they could be accepted by the mongooses_ vs. _they need to, because they're stuck here_ . Barry tries to focus on the first one even though--well aren't those both _valid?_ This isn't their home, shouldn't they keep trying to get back, not get too comfy? But if they never get back, what a waste not to enjoy the time they have here. For now, the best Barry figures they can do is keep working at this and keep trying to get home and try to somehow hold it all together. "Does Taako know yet?"

She downs the rest of her coffee in one fell dreg, packing up the notes they'll need for today’s work. "Nah, I mean, he's heard me chittering about theories, but I only really solidified it this morning? We still good to head out today and test more things out?"

Now that she says it out loud, she's bouncing on her toes in excitement. They'd been in this rut for _weeks_ , and finally having something to at least _test_? The thought is almost a relief. Any time she finds their research stagnating, it's easier and easier to slip back into that routine of despair. Progress, that's what keeps Lup moving. And they might be on the verge of it.

"Yeah, definitely, I'm good to go," he answers. With any luck, this will go smoothly and lead to even more understanding. They could make it to fluency one day, maybe that was a big dream? But it was looking _possible_ . If anyone could get out of this fucked up interplanar situation, surely it'd be the folks who did some _other_ impossible thing, right?

He offers Lup a smile with just a touch of shyness as they head to the door and he steps to the side to let her through. She's so dedicated; they hadn't worked on pitch since near the beginning, she must've done a deep dive _all the way back_ through their notes to get here. He couldn't ask for a better research partner, truly, she's so _thorough_. Barry has some habits; he's been called a cowboy a time or two. He's better off for having Lup's steady checks and double-checks keeping him in order.

After some haggling with Taako ("One day, can't I just have one day to chill? It's called self-care, Lulu."), they pack up lunch for them and some potential mongooses, and head out. By now they've established a bit of a rapport with the locals-- there's a usual place where they can observe and the mongooses don't seem to have a problem with them being. And they bring food, so. They're basically friends, right?

They get settled for the afternoon, setting out the usual offerings of eggs (they prefer them uncooked) and bacon from breakfast (everyone loves bacon), Lup gives a call. She tests out that peep, tacking on the trill for "arrival" after.

Barry settles in the grass, pulls out his notebook, and echoes the peep and trill. See, that seems about right, that’s useful— _Hi guys, I’m here_. A couple of the mongooses look their way, and the young one they first met heads over, peeping to the others. Barry checks his notes: the initial peep for who, followed by—“food. Guys, I think we might be their version of the pizza guy right now,” he chuckles. “‘Food’s here, I got it!’”

Taako snorts at that. “Let’s be real, that’s the usual reaction to cha’boy,” he says.

Barry scribbles down a couple of notes, outlining the interaction so far. This is promising, really. He looks at Lup and grins. _Progress_.

She snorts; they're the ding-dang fantasy Domino's truck, perfect. She swats Taako playfully, holding out an egg to the first little guy that comes up to her. 

She tries her hand at a response, confirming the delivery to the mongoose. " _Me: Food Arrive!_ " She grins back at Barry, taking her own notes as well. The mongoose tilts their head at the first sound-- she's probably using the wrong frequency-- but their ears perk up at the last few chitters. They repeat what Lup had chittered back to the group, and a handful of other mongooses join the circle. 

"Barry, try to do their pitch of the who-peep. See if they like... recognise it as themself. I don't trust myself to get the pitch right without feeling it, y'know?"

“Yeah, I can, uh, _peep_ ,” he tries, looking back to the first mongoose. “Is that you, buddy? _Peep_.”

The mongoose seems to consider this, then repeats: “ _Me: Food!_ ” and clutches the egg.

“Amazing,” Barry says. He tries again, a little more certainty as he matches the mongoose’s pitch this time. The mongoose answers again, looking at Barry curiously. “Oh, wow, okay,” he says, scribbling another note. He turns to Lup. “I think you nailed it, we’ll have to keep testing, but look at them,” he says, indicating the mongoose, who’s begun eating the egg. “I think they understood.”

Lup's smiling, Taako looking incredulous behind her. "Fuckin', A-plus Lulu!" He does a similar test, holding an egg to Barry and peeping, then holding it out to the mongoose and peeping the same frequency. 

The mongoose tilts its head, considering. It grabs the egg, and scurries over to sit in front of Barry. _"Peep!"_ , a lower frequency, as it sets the egg in front of him. It then picks it up, and peeps in the original frequency. 

"Ho-ho-holy shit, Barry-- I think you just got a name!" 

Lup holds her hand out to Taako, a huge smile shining in Barry's direction. "Dude, show me!" Taako takes her hand and holds it to his throat, then approximates the lower peep. Lup’s eyes are _saucers_ . " _Oh my gods!_ That's different! That's not... Have we heard that one yet? Is that _people_?"

Barry beams in delight. “Holy shit, I think so, here let me try.” He holds out the egg to Lup, peeping the new frequency, then holds it out to the mongoose. “ _People?_ ”

The mongoose takes the egg and sets it in front of Lup with a new, slightly different peep, closer to Barry’s peep than to any of the mongooses’ but distinct from it. It looks pointedly at Barry and repeats the peep.

Barry makes a sound between a gasp and a laugh. “Sorry,” he says reflexively and good-naturedly to the mongoose, “I’m trying here, buddy.” He writes down the new information and offers the egg to Taako, then to the mongoose. The mongoose obligingly provides a third peep, different from the other two, as he settles the egg in front of Taako. 

“It’s personal,” Barry murmurs as he writes before lifting his head from his notes. “It’s not just people, collectively, it’s _names_ .” He lets loose a delighted laugh. “That’s _wild!_ That’s _outstanding!_ Lup, you’re a genius!” They can go over this later, too, learn each other’s new names and figure out what concepts they have vocabulary-wise. If Lup needs him to, he can practice making these same sounds until she’s comfortable with them...if she wants? If she’s more comfortable with Taako, that’s fine, too, but he can offer? He should just ask her, she’ll know what she needs. He will ask, he decides, and makes a mental note. For the moment though, they’re celebrating, and Barry can’t wipe the smile off his face.

Lup very nearly _hollers_ , her laugh one of celebration and disbelief. "We did it? We did it!" She latches onto Taako, giving him a tight hug. He pats her on the back, not so much laughing, but absolutely grinning. She turns to Barry, only hesitating momentarily before throwing her arms around him too. 

"We _nailed it!_ Freakin'... Mongoose naming conventions?? We've gotta be like... the first Tüsoners to do this like _ever_! We're incredible!" She can feel Barry's rumbling laugh against her chest, and it feels like music.

Barry is taken by surprise by Lup’s hug. He wraps his arms around her, too, laughing and celebrating and wishing it would be anywhere near okay to just lift her up and spin her gleefully. After all, a hug isn’t a green light to get flung around all willy-nilly. The hug is good, though, enthusiastic and warm and full of joy and relief, and Barry feels safe and happy inside it. It’s about the best feeling he’s had since, well, since the launch, when everything went fucked. But now their hard work is paying off. Finally, finally, they did it! “Gods, wait’ll we tell the others!” he exclaims as they let go again. “We have _mongoose names!_ ”

The mongooses are looking on at the celebrating aliens with tilted heads and chittering sounds that sort of translate to the vague idea of " _???_ ". It's as valid a response as any, but it has Lup cackling all over again. They've just been named. By alien mongooses. Incredible. 

She pulls back, only because they're totally coworkers and if she keeps hugging Barry any longer there is deffo a relevant HR complaint sheet for that. 

Taako plunks down and holds out an egg toward another mongoose. “C’mon my dude, what’s your name?” he asks. He peeps his own name again, then _egg._ “You know you want it,” he coaxes.

Barry clears his throat, still riding the high from the breakthrough. Good a time as any? “If you want, I—we can learn this together? If you want me to help, to work on getting the pitch right? I’d be down for that,” he says. He feels awkward, but he shouldn’t, he thinks. He’s offering help, which is great, but he doesn’t want her to feel like he’s just trying to get into her space or something. He offers a slightly bashful smile.

The possibility that there's any belittling in his question doesn't even cross her mind-- In all the time she's known Barry he'd only ever gone out of his way to help and try to make others comfortable. Of course, she'd heard tell of his pre-IPRE days from friends and colleagues, but if anything that'd only shown his potential for growth. And that hint of a smile, padded by caution, only confirmed those suspicions. "Yeah, that'd be... really helpful, actually, thanks. Let's uhh, let’s see if we can't get any more vocab from these guys before sunset, yeah?"

The three of them spend the afternoon with the mongooses, trying all kinds of things and making note of the corresponding chitters. There are so many things Barry wants to know from them--is there some sort of leader to speak to? Is it a cliche for him, an alien, to ask them to take him to their leader? Regardless of that, have there ever been humans here? Elves? Any other humanoid races? Are there libraries or anything that could help? Barry doesn't suppose that they'll be able to tell him how to get home, but really anything is better than nothing.

He's looking forward to working with Lup. She accepted his offer to work together so graciously, and he realizes it's not just this scenario he felt was hanging on that moment. He really, genuinely likes Lup--crush would be broadly accurate, but wouldn't cover it entirely--and he sometimes feels at a loss to know what to do to communicate with her as comfortably as possible. He doesn't want to be That Guy, the loud ally who doesn't hold up under an ounce of pressure, so he figures it's best to ask and leave it her choice--it's not her job to educate him, he doesn't want to presume. Gods, it's the anxiety for half of this, huh?

In any case, they go back to the ship, have dinner, relax a little. He smiles across the table. They've got a long way to go, but they've made such progress today. They've earned this moment of joy.

Lup's quick to crack open a (transmuted) bottle of wine for dinner. They all deserve a celebration in the midst of all the bullshit, and they've got a pretty dang good excuse tonight. The crew congratulates the three of them over dinner, asking questions and listening to a lot of linguistic nonsense with kind patience. Lucretia raises a toast to the three of them after Lup brings out desert, lauding them for a scientific and sociological breakthrough that the small crew of the Starblaster gets to witness. Merle wants to know if mongooses curse. 

They break off after dinner, Lup's excuse being "I don't even know my name yet, let me get back to y'all when I can fully delve into my mongoose-sona." Taako has, quote, “had enough _chitter_ for one night” (It's just the word for egg, but Merle hassles him to share the swear with the class. He does not), and goes to steal all the hot water. Which leaves Lup and Barry in the lab, with good lighting, less noise-pollution and two glasses of merlot.

Barry is suddenly nervous again. He swallows and spreads his notes out on the table. "Okay, um, so...just let me know how to do this? I saw you with Taako before, do you just feel for vibrations while I say it?" he asks. He takes a quick sip of his wine, for starters.

He clears his throat. This'll put them _close_. It's nice, being so close, but Barry dearly hopes he doesn't embarrass himself and fall into a stammering mess. He gives Lup a shy smile.

"I-- yeah, more or less? It's imperfect, but.." She pulls up a chair next to him, paging through their notes to get a visual reminder of the sounds. "Bit of trial and error-- remember when I said phonetics was a lot of weird noise-making?" She chuckles, hopefully covering the twirl of embarrassment her belly's anticipating. Maybe embarrassment's not the right word. It's always a bit odd explaining things, but she's more worried about him being uncomfortable than anything. 

She puts on hand to her throat, a lax gesture right at the front. She hesitates, before scooting closer to Barry and raising her other hand slowly. "You, uhh, if this is too weird, just say the word and I'll bug Taako, 'kay?" She touches three fingers gently below his jaw, thumb resting at his chin. "Just uhmm, I guess we can... start with yours? If you can hold the pitch for a bit, that'd be great. Doesn't have to be a proper peep or anything; humming works, or whatever's comfy for you?" That worry's still there in the furrow of her brow, eyeing him for signs of discomfort with any of this.

“Okay,” he says. Her hand’s on his throat. She smells nice. _This is fine._

She seems kinda tense? He gets it, so is he, but he did just spend several weeks trying to talk to mongooses with her right there watching, so here goes. Barry takes a deep breath and hums the pitch he knows as _his_ , taken by the odd feeling that he’s introducing himself. He kinda is, in a way. He nearly laughs, but catches himself in time so as not to interrupt.

He runs out of breath and smiles, waiting for her instructions.

She joins in the hum, pitch shifting a bit until it feels right under her fingers. She raises an eyebrow for confirmation that she's got it. It _sounds_ close to her, for what it's worth, but she knows she's missing enough pitches that she could be a solid fifth off by ear. When Barry stops, she nods, and works to find that pitch on her own. She keeps her eyes on his for feedback, and when she thinks she's got it, she _peeps_ his name experimentally.

She’s got it. That’s his name.

Barry’s grin widens. “That’s me,” he confirms. “You got it!” Maybe he’s being sappy, but he’s kinda already attached to his name and it’s a pleasure to share it with her, and to witness the care she puts into getting it right.

She grins, and _peep_ s again excitedly. Once she's got it, it's only a problem of muscle memory. Eventually it'll be second nature to make everyone's names, but for now it's all about getting the making-of down. 

“Do you wanna keep at this one, or try another?” he asks.

"Hell yeah! Give me another!" She takes a sip of wine, and puts her hand back up to listen. "Can we do mine? Feel like I should probably get that down before we talk to them again, y'know?"

“For sure, let me just—“ Barry checks back over the notes, just to make sure he’s confident on Lup’s pitch. It’s close to his own, just a few semitones different, one, two, three, four—

It’s a perfect third.

Barry can feel himself start to blush a little and sips his wine for cover. What a crazy random happenstance, mongooses for sure don’t understand the intersection of music theory and symbolism and matchmaking to make _their names are in harmony_ mean anything. None of that is cooling his cheeks.

He hums her pitch, her name, and does his best to guide her as she works on matching it.

To Lup, their names are basically identical. Her name feels different, higher, but in a complementary way; her pitch is echoed in his, something she didn't quite remember from violin lessons about overtones? That'll be pretty easy to remember then. The switch between the two feels natural, and she practices the jump a few times, looking to Barry for approval. 

They get through hers and Taako's name-sounds, the two being much closer than her and Barry's, but rounding out an interesting chord. She knows they would probably all sound cool together in theory-- a realisation that makes her a bit sad she didn't bring her instrument with her. Not that it would've made any sense to in the beginning, but not much of anything they wish for now would have. 

They're chittering about still, practicing up on putting their name-sounds in with actual phrases and Lup's steadily feeling more comfortable reading the foreign shapes on his lips. After her glass empties though, she has a habit of accompanying her " _???_ " trill with an upturned shake of her hand. It seems second-nature; she doesn't even acknowledge the additional movement.

Barry’s feeling a little looser, more and more comfortable as they practice, names and words and phrases coming a little easier.

“Hey,” he asks eventually, seeing her gesture. “Does this mean the same thing? _???_ ” It looks like it might, to Barry.

She tilts her head, "Wha-", and catches herself making the sign again. "Ahh, shoot, yeah actually. Oops." She snorts, shaking her head. "Force of habit-- and wine. I mean, I could teach you, if you want? But then Taako and I are gonna have to be sneakier with our shit talking. Err, shit-signing?" She laughs, clearly not too upset at the proposition.

He laughs too. “I’d really like that,” he answers. “I don’t want to like, just assume you’re running a school here, but I’d love to learn. It could be easier? You know, if we’re working together—“ _for the rest of our lives, potentially, no word on how long that is_ “—for now. And, uh, I can politely ignore any shit-signing I’m not privy to.” He winks, then immediately overthinks the entire history and institution of winking. Whoa, there, Barry, come on.

"Nah, I don't mind at all. It's cool to have more people know, y'know? Ko'll get over it." She winks back. 

"So, what'd'ya want to know, kid?" She signs along with that last sentence, a point to Barry, a grabbing motion, some other quick motions, none of which are the _what?_ shake.

Barry watches carefully. There’s not a one-to-one correlation between her words and the signs, but he sees some of the ideas: him, of course, naturally, reaching to grab something he wants, okay, yes. That makes sense, most languages have different grammar. Honestly it looks like when it comes time to build vocabulary, this’ll be helpful: watching Lup sign as she speaks, and adding new signs as he goes.

For now, though, he answers, “Maybe the basics? Some of the most common words, I don’t know. Do you remember how you learned—shit, sorry, you don’t have to—that’s personal, maybe? You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.” He doesn’t know when or how she learned to sign—right off, when she was tiny? As a child? As an adult?—or why except that she needed to, he doesn’t have any business digging into _why_ and _what happened_. Barry blushes.

“Okay, yeah, I started with the alphabet? It’s good ‘cause like, you can spell things you don’t know how to say— totally a thing. And common stuff, sure sure. And hey, Barry? Barold? It’s okay to ask questions. Like, we’re scientists, and also... people? Can’t learn without asking. I’ll tell ya if you overstep, m’kay?” 

She straightens up, tucking the notes away. “So like, the grammar’s different? That’s not super important right now, just like, don’t let yourself get hung up on it not matching Common.” She runs through the alphabet, slowly, helping move his hands into the right shapes. When he can make each on his own, there’s a nod and a growing smile for him. Lup won’t mention it, but knowing that he _wants_ to learn, that he’s not shying away from this part of her, feels incredible. She’s already thinking up possible name-signs for him while he runs the alphabet through again.

Barry relaxes a little under her reassurances. “Got it,” he confirms. He follows along with her, letting her help shape his hands the way they need to go. A couple he gets mixed up on his second run through, but Lup is there to set him back on track and soon enough he’s able to make each shape on his own. He looks up to catch her smile. Oh, that’s worth...way more, definitely, he’d do a hell of a lot to see her smile at him like that again.

He grins back. “I think—one more time I think? It’s getting easier to do,” he says. He starts over from A, diligently working through each letter.

"Perfect! You're a natural, Bluejeans." Her tail does excited little swishes under her chair. Her eyes are heavy, but teaching him is too much fun, and watching him _get it_ makes her excited to show him more. Barry puts so much care into everything he does, and this is no exception. She can't figure out which is the most important to show him. 

A few come to mind; _yes_ is a nod of the fist, _no_ a little three-finger pinch. She shows him the grab and pull of _want_ , the difference between _what_ and _what_ , and how to point to a thought you _know_ and throw it out of your head when you _don't-know_. 

They go through the signs together, working at a pace that works for both of them, covering the basics. Here, too, Barry can see the intent in the signs, and he's able to connect the signs in his mind with the Common words he knows. It gets easier as they go along.

"Uhh... if you can see the actual _thing_ you're talking about you usually just point? I don't know, anything else you're itchin' to learn tonight?" Lup asks. She's signing as she talks, not full sentences, just words that are easy to connect like _see_ and _talk_.

There is. There's something Barry very much does want to learn tonight.

"For your name...do I just spell it, or how?" he asks.

She nods, and mulls it over. She's in sort of an interesting situation with that one, the naming convention of Common Sign Language not one that really fit her situation. 

"Uhh, when you introduce yourself to someone the first time, you spell out your name. But you can also have a name-sign. Thing is, they have to be given-- you can't make one up for yourself? The person who gives you the sign also... can't be hearing. So Ko's got one, natch. But uhh. I didn't really know anyone who could give me one. We didn't really, y'know, stick around one place long enough to find those people, so." She shrugs. "Sorry to disappoint there. I can show you Ko's? And I'm working on one for you, don't even worry." She refuses to tell him that they've been referring to him as Nerd-Jeans for all of training; hopefully she can come up with something better...

Barry takes this in, abruptly feeling...he's not sure? Sad for her, protective over this thing that he didn't know until ten seconds ago. He wants to hug her, but this isn't like earlier, and now he's shy about it. He remembers how it felt for the mongoose to give him a name--shit, she's _missing this_ in a really important way?

 _How lonely._ She had Taako with her, apparently moving from place to place, but without anyone to really properly relate to her? "I--thanks, I, uh, I know you'll come up with something good. And, uh--I'll call you whatever you say is good, I can spell it if that's what's right. I'm, uh, I'm real sorry that you didn't--you know, that sounds really isolating. It sucks for you," he tries.

Lup watches his expression drop and immediately backtracks. _It sucks for you_? Absolutely the fuck not. "No, no, no, hey, don't-- none of that. The one thing off the table is pity. I haven't even... needed one 'til... I guess now? Like who's gonna sign about me but Taako, and I'm the only one he's signing to. You can be mad for not knowing what to call me when you gossip to him, but don't feel bad about it for me, 'kay? I'm not any worse-off for it." 

She puts her soft smile back on, but there's tension there-- reserve. To be fair, she _did_ basically tell him she's an open book. Which she is! Just not open to receiving pity. No matter how well-meant. 

"Look, I know that's not how you mean it, but. And I don't blame you for thinking that. But feeling bad for me hurts way more than any of the circumstances. You can ask whatever you want, and I mean that-- But I'm not... Isolated or worse off for what happened. I'm perfectly okay, okay?"

Shit. He's fucked up, he didn't mean to upset her. He's glad she understands where he's coming from, but still. Shit.

"Okay," he agrees. "Got it. I didn't mean to--you know. No pity, I promise. I trust your experience, I kinda just...reacted. I'm sorry, I'll do better." He offers an apologetic smile, hoping that he can soothe the tension he's fumbled his way into.

Ohh geez... She sighs. Correcting him is one thing, but making him feel bad was not her intention. But this is a sort of uncharted territory for both of them; mistakes will be made. She sets a hand on his with a gentle squeeze and reassuring look. 

"It's okay. I get it. No harm done, just... just a teaching moment. Didn't mean to bite your head off about it, just important,” she says.

"You're fine, thanks for--well, now I know, so I won't mess up." Her hand on his eases his anxiety some. _It's just a boundary, she's not upset,_ Barry reminds himself. He'll just be better about it in the future.

“Here," she straightens up, "let me show you how Taako's name works. Lots of name-signs are like, signs that already exist? Usually you throw in initials if you can, or combine signs to kind of... encompass a person. So do the _t_ shape, but with both hands..." She does so too, showing Barry how to scoop the fists down and out. "It's a play on the sign for like... trying? But more like... _striving_ , and putting that effort in." She's pretty dang proud of that one, and it shows in the smile that's come back full force.

Barry pays close attention as she teaches him Taako's name sign. He tries it out. "It fits him, that's so cool," he says with a smile.

"Thanks! Made it myself." She winks. They're good, that's good. It would _very much suck_ if he went full pity-bro when they've gotta work together for the foreseeable future. But he didn't, because of course he wouldn't. She finds herself even more excited to get to work tomorrow, and the next days, on teaching each other. 

Speaking of tomorrow, a yawn sends Lup's ears sticking out. She checks the time and _ohh shit,_ when did the night slip away from them? "We should probably get some rest if we want to be useful tomorrow. But thank you, for helping with the names. I can't wait to actually greet the mongooses _correctly_ for once."

"Yeah, we probably should turn in. I'm pretty stoked to get out there tomorrow," he agrees. "I'm glad to help, and, uh, thanks for teaching me to sign? I--it'll be nice. I already...like...talking with you, it'll be another way to--geez, okay, you get it, right? Please blame _all_ of this nonsense on the Merlot," he chuckles.

Smooth, Barry, how many feet you gonna jam into your mouth tonight? he thinks. He for sure should get some rest, before he talks any more, at all.

She laughs, giving him a _yeah, yeah_ while picking up her stack of notes. It _was_ nice though, and she doesn't see any nonsense in learning and talking and existing as people outside of the wild ride this plane was taking them on. 

They make their way through dim halls to their quarters, and Lup goes to wave, but thinks of a better idea. "Hey, _goodnight_." She gives him the sign too, blowing a kiss and tossing it over the other arm like a sun going down. Then she bumps the button for her door, and slips inside for the evening.

“ _Goodnight,”_ Barry answers, trying out the sign, too. When the door closes behind her, he lingers in the hall a moment and tries the sign again. He’ll practice it later, too. He doesn’t like the idea of _goodnight_ as a parting, and going back to their rooms separately. He does like the idea as a well-wish, like he could somehow speak a good night into being for her. _Goodnight._ It’s not an actual spell he can do, but it has a somehow similar feeling. He doesn’t know, he’s very tired, he can’t quite get to where he’s going with this fuzzy train of thought.

He turns and heads to his room, feeling like he may fall asleep sooner than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: They did it, y’all! Project Peep is a go! Looks like teamwork really does make the dream work ;-)
> 
> SA: Those strictly professional dreams, of course!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you get arrested and your crewmate tries to pick a fight with a Power Bear. 
> 
> Sometimes, innocent mistakes make you think.
> 
> This is fine.

Not everyone on the ship is as quick to pick up Mongoose as the first three, but a few weeks sees Lucretia and (shockingly) Merle getting solid grips on the language, and the rest of the crew handling the basics fairly well. So when Davenport decides to helm a scouting mission for the Light of Creation, Merle heads out with him, confident that his language prowess and way with nature will make him an asset if they come to face the inhabitants of this plane. They've just returned, if Lucretia's morning announcement is correct, and breakfast is called to debrief after the men have a chance to shower and get their bearings. 

"Magnus, absolutely the fuck not." 

Lup passes the search party as she pads into the kitchen, only to find Taako _going off_ about something. She gives a confused "Mornin'?", met by some clearly perturbed signing from her brother. 

_"Coffee's ready, you're gonna need it before you hear this shit."_

She laughs, throwing back a _"thank you"_ , before setting out to fill a mug. Magnus is talking animatedly about some big plan, and turns for her support once she sits down. "Merle said there's this council of royal animals, and one of them's a _bear_ , representing _power_ . They wouldn't let them in, but _what if_ -"

Taako cuts him off with an eyeroll. "Maggie here wants to fight the fucking power bear."

Barry takes this in over the rim of his coffee mug. He lowers it to smile as Lup sits down. “ _Morning,_ ” he signs. He’s been practicing over the past few weeks, with Lup teaching him more and more signs. He’s making some progress, though he knows he still has a long way to go.

“Okay,” he says, slowly, reasonably, “let’s think this through. Magnus, do you think you can _win_ a fight with the power bear? Like, objectively, show your work, this is a science mission.”

Lup smiles, covering it with a sip of coffee. He's really getting good at the signs he's learned, and more importantly, he's not afraid to use them. She was right in that Taako gave her shit for "betraying their sacred language for hot goss", but there was no fire behind it; they learned it for her, and it's still hers to share. 

"C'mon, Barry, have you seen me? I could totally take 'em." Magnus digs into his eggs, tone a bit softer after a bite. "Plus, I'm security. If someone's gonna fight, it's me."

“Okay, so, is it ethical to fight the power bear? Like it’s probably against the law if it’s royalty we’re talking, but discounting that, what are you after, here? Sparring’s probably fine; a coup for power’s own sake is probably _not,_ ” Barry continues.

“Well, like, maybe I could impress him,” Magnus argues. “They’d probably _have_ to let us talk to them then, right?” He looks over at Lucretia, then back at Lup, nodding as if to say _right???_

"I mean..." Lup doesn't look convinced, as much as impressing an alien power sounds baller as all hell. "Maybe we save that as like, a plan B? Let's think diplomacy first, yeah? The problem isn't impressing these guys, it's _getting_ to them." She thinks on that, and she can see Magnus mulling it over. As long as he doesn't try to kick the Animal King's ass, she's gonna feel a lot better about this.

"Okay, so how do we get in there? Like how wild does stuff have to get to get their attention? We'd have to like... be a ruling power or... or commit some federal crime or something." Taako huffs, sitting down with his plate of eggs. He looks up to see Magnus and Lup looking at each other with massive grins. "Whoa, hold up, nahhh nah nah..."

Lucretia cuts in. “Really, Magnus, I cannot stress enough how much I’d prefer that you _don’t_ pick a fight _or_ commit any major crimes,” she says.

Barry stifles a chuckle and sips his coffee. “She’s right, bud, this is about scale. Gotta think about it, where do you want this to fall on a scale from ‘shoplifting’ to ‘mass murder’? ‘Tax fraud’ is the midpoint,” he says helpfully.

"Okay okay okay, we're not _killing_ anyone." Lup eyes the table with her Serious Morals look. "Shoplifting, yeah fuck the man and whatever but I don't think that's applicable here. Taxes, either."

"So we don't pick a fight with the bear. I mean, I could just shit-talk a guard or something? Do you guys know how to do that?" Magnus looks to Lup, knowing that her chaotic energy is more likely to give in. And he's absolutely correct. She's already racking her brain for how such a thing might work in the language. She gives a noncommittal shrug to Magnus; it's _probably_ doable.

Barry pushes his empty mug back on the table. “So your general plan is to cause a scene by picking a suitably prickly guard and dropping a well-timed ‘your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries’ such that it catches the attention of royalty?” he asks. 

“Yeah, basically, that could work, right?” Magnus confirms.

Barry scoots the chair back, slaps his hands to his knees and swings up to his feet. “Welp, I’ll be needing more coffee to make that work,” he declares.

Lup exchanges an incredulous grin with the remaining boys at the table. Their mission has seen some severe changes, but it's definitely keeping them on their toes. "Hell yeah, bring the pot!"

\--

And that's how the illustrious members of the Starblaster’s crew find themselves being led to seek council with the Royal Beasts of this animal kingdom. Magnus absolutely beams, sporting a black eye as Magnuses are wont to do.

The cities of this plane are something out of dreams; seeing animals of all shapes and sizes living in harmony in paw-crafted structures much more elaborate than could ever be dreamed of back home. 

Eventually, the Royal Beasts allow the crew an audience to hear an explanation for the veritable fistfight between guard and Magnus. The three animals, a bear, an owl, and a one-eyed wolf, sit raised above the rest of the chamber, and the crew is led in without instruction or candour.

The seven of them stand before the thrones, their cooperation rewarded with a lack of chains, but still under the watchful eyes of several guards. Barry focuses on a point between the owl and the wolf and tries to look neutral as Magnus begins to explain their presence, until he abruptly snaps to attention at Magnus’s retort of “Fuck. Off.” Godsdammit, he might have to step in here, he thinks as a bear from the audience charges at Magnus and the two start fighting. Maybe not, though, Magnus seems to have it handled.

Lup knows a truly bad idea when she sees it, and telling literally anything called a “Power Bear” to fuck off is definitely on that list. Magnus has already picked a fight with a guard, and he was now ready to get his ass handed to him by _another_ of these folks. But what she expected wasn’t what she got; Maggie was going pretty well toe to toe with this other bear, leaving the rest of them looking on in states of shock and horror. 

The Royal Beasts are grunting amongst themselves, and Lup is trying dammit, but she can’t get a word in edgewise. Everyone’s chittering and squawking and only every few words make sense. She starts her sentences over again— a stop and start of “Your Highnesses we’re here to help—“ and “please if you’ll just listen—“— but no one’s paying anyone mind to anything but the two duking it out in the middle of this grand hall.

Barry goes into damage control mode. Magnus is holding his own against the bear. Excellent. Magnus is fighting a bear at all in the middle of the royal court. Not excellent. All of this is going down with all seven of them still technically being detained? Super not excellent. The whole scene is chaotic, and Barry hears Lup's voice trying to cut through the chaos, trying to bring some sort of reason to bear, but no one's listening to her. He tries too, "With respect, Your Highnesses, it's like she said, we're trying to help, it's important!" But no dice. 

Magnus gets the bear into a tight hold and down to the ground, subduing it without too much damage. The Power Bear rises, and Barry abruptly drops his head into his palm as Magnus _challenges the godsdamned Power Bear._ Burnsides, you _fucking idiot._

But the Power Bear doesn't challenge him back. Or more accurately, they don't get a chance to. The smaller bear is subdued for a moment, but _keeps fucking going???_ Magnus has to nearly choke the guy out before he can face the Power Bear unfettered. The beast looks... impressed. _Nice one, Burnsides._

"Please, we're just trying to help! We don't want to hurt anyone!" Lup wills herself not to actively face-palm at Magnus's plea. To be fair, he hadn't _physically_ started the fight, but still. "We just came for the Light of Creation so we can go home before the Apocalypse comes here. _Please_."

The Power Bear considers this. And that kicks off the negotiations. The Royal Beasts want to hear about how they came here, how they learned the language. They're impressed, and soon come to terms: the crew will be released, Magnus will train with the Power Bear, and assuming he can prove sufficient responsibility, the Royal Beasts will discuss releasing the Light.

"I give you my word, Highnesses, we will earn your trust on this. We're not trying to pull anything funny; like Lup said, we just want to go home," Barry assures them. He's stressed to the max; nothing about this situation is normal, and he's not usually one for politics and negotiations and games and shit. It's too rich for his blood, honestly. He's a simple man, a humble scientist, not a fancyboy diplomat.

They finally, _finally_ , are released, and Lup feels dead on her feet. They literally could have died _again_ , and there's an unsettling feeling that it might not be the last time. Just thinking about that is exhausting. 

She starts dinner with Taako, using their familiar dance in the kitchen as a chance to breathe and reset. Magnus insists on packing up to go train with the Power Bear in a day's time, while most of the others have found their own ways to decompress. The kitchen is quiet, aside from the sound of veggies sizzling and the occasional click of shoes on tile. It might be nice, calm even, under different circumstances. Maybe once they're out of this mess, she'll convince Ko to start that food truck with her like he'd always joked. This feels right.

Barry feels the stress of the day in all of his bones. He gets that it was a legitimate idea to get dragged in for an audience, but his body doesn't agree whatsoever. He idles around the ship before dinner, stretches his legs, tries to read a bit.

He can smell it already, delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen. Taako and Lup are about to deliver, and the thought makes his stomach growl. When he'd filled out the pre-launch paperwork, he'd disclosed his lactose intolerance and he assumed that info would be passed on to the chefs as a dietary restriction. He'd neglected to mention his preference for spicy food staying firmly somewhere between ‘weenie’ and ‘mild’ on the heat scale, though. Lup had seen him go bright red and break a sweat over one particularly spicy meal early on, though, and ever since he's always found something gentler on the table. He smiles. He likes eating with the crew. Living alone didn't really lend itself to mealtime being especially social, but here all seven of them eat together at least most nights. It's a comfort, a little bit of normalcy in such a tough situation.

Barry pokes his head into the kitchen. "Smells good, want me to set the table?" he asks.

Lup turns, spoon half in her mouth-- the sauce could use some thyme. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind? I'm a bowls-for-pasta kind of gal, but do what you gotta do. ETA on that garlic bread?" 

"Patience, Lulu, perfection takes time. Five-ten minutes should be good." She swats at him with a dishrag, and he handily deals a swat back. She signs an incredibly sarcastic _perfection_ that has Taako sticking his tongue out. Just like old times.

Barry grabs a stack of bowls and starts to set them out at each place. He leaves plenty of space in the center, anticipating the large serving dishes the twins will set there. Family style. They kind of are the only family each other's got now, Barry muses. He hopes they can make it home, but sometimes, when he isn't convinced they can, he figures that he's at least lucky to be part of this crew in the here and now. He grabs a fistful of utensils and starts arranging them on the table.

The rest of the crew wanders in at the persistent scent of the twins' cooking. Magnus is already chatting with Davenport about his trek out tomorrow, their Captain giving him the usual "make good choices, don't punch anyone" spiel. Lucretia takes her place at the table, insisting that Magnus take extensive notes on the places and people he sees, since the rest of the crew most likely won't be allowed in training areas and the like. She's absolutely right, but counting on Mags to take notes seems like a bit of a stretch. 

Lup makes a point to quiz her crew-mates, testing Magnus's animal speech in preparation for his time with the Power Bear. The crew is making incredible progress given the time they've spent on it, but given the events of the day, a cultural misunderstanding could be detrimental to retrieving the Light. 

She also makes a point to test Barry's signing a bit, when her hands aren't full. A " _how are you holding up_ ?" and " _pass the cheese_ " to keep him on his toes, and to give her brain just a little break.

Barry takes in the chatter and clink of silverware as the crew digs into the meal. He listens as Lup runs Magnus through words and phrases, occasionally contributing a helpful comment between bites of the pasta.

He takes a second to think before he answers Lup's question: " _Good, being 'taken away' makes you tired. Don't know a-r-r-e-s-t-e-d?_ " He's been picking up a lot of signs this way, waiting until a new word comes up and asking, then tucking it away for practice later. He supposes that's how most folks learn a first language, just encountering new words in the wild and adding them to their vocabulary.

She nods, glad to hear he's handling the ordeal well, and happy at an opportunity to teach. Although, hopefully he won't be using this one much. She holds a pointer finger up, and grabs it with her right hand, showing the sign clearly for him to practice. Davenport raises an eyebrow at the exchange, and Lup laughs. " _We got arrested_." She signs it out as she says it, and the moment turns into a learning opportunity for the whole table. Dav seems actively interested, and Lup makes a mental note to see if he wants to learn too. He's got some rogue training, right? Might come in handy. 

Dishes are cleared, and folks start breaking for their chambers. The trek to and from the capital city seems to have wiped everyone out, and Lup's no exception. She signals to Taako on the way back that she's _going to need some serious coffee in the morning._ He nods back, signing perhaps the most common sign to grace the hands of the twins: _same_.

Barry heads back too, catching the twins signing out of the corner of his eye. A quick evaluation: is this a general conversation or a not-for-Barry twin time? 

Coffee in the morning seems fine, as a topic. He can join in here. He turns toward thema bit more and signs back in agreement: “ _I’m gonna need some serious coffee too, for sure._ ” He knows coffee, he learned the sign early on, so he feels confident as he signs: both hands in fists, he stacks them at the wrists and moves them back and forth. It always makes him think of grinding the beans or stirring the cup— _coffee,_ nailed it.

 _Oh sweet summer child_ . Lup has to cover the snort that she just can't help. It's a common mistake, the signs look so similar-- he doesn't even know that one yet so how could he distinguish? _Gonna need a serious makeout..._ She laughs, catching eyes with Taako, who looks about to die of secondhand embarrassment. 

" _Same, big same._ " She reins in the giggle, debating if this is too damn good to correct him.

Barry’s eyes flit back and forth between the two. Lup’s laughing, agreeing with him—coffee is not this funny, is the stress of the day/months finally just catching up or...?

“Oh gods, oh geez, what did I sign?” he asks. They both look genuinely tickled, and Barry’s bright red but so far, without knowing what’s going on, hasn’t decided whether the situation warrants simply lying on the ground and letting entropy take over.

The goof is _very good_ , but Lup can't watch her friend die of embarrassment in front of her. She chuckles, spelling out _m-a-k-e-o-u-t_ and signing it, then _c-o-f-f-e-e_ , and giving the sign. This difference is subtle; the first is more of a wringing motion, the second just a stir. 

"They're super close, it's like the most common mistake. Don't worry about it." She's still smiling though. And maybe a few months ago, she would've blushed at the thought of Barry ask-signing to makeout. Back when they were co-workers that had a two-month space-romp to goof around. But now there's so much more than that-- they're friends, also co-workers, and there’s no indication how long this trip will be. They've had to reset their expectations, and this is no different. Unfortunately.

Barry’s blush only deepens. Oh, boy, astral plane, here he comes, **yeet!** He hadn’t known both signs, this is just a mistake. Lup’s smiling, though, and her laugh isn’t hurtful. It soothes the embarrassment some as she shows him the difference. Barry can accept a good faith mistake, even as he works to make sure he gets it right in the future.

It’s just that—

If he _had_ known both, if both were on the table, for sure—

“I—oh, okay—gotcha—I—sorry? Gods,” he fumbles. “Like, no offense to you—either of you, but I do just want the coffee,” he manages through an embarrassed laugh.

It’s fine, it’s fine and will be fine, _however_ also Lup is very beautiful and Barry feels very valid to be attracted to her even though he can’t do anything about it. Nothing except absolutely cherish her friendship and collaboration.

She feigns hurt, hand to her chest all shocked. "Just the coffee? How _dare_." Taako's in on the goof in an instant, a snap of his fingers producing an illusory hanky with which to dab his non-existent tears. 

"Really, Barold, to just out and say such a thing..." He storms off, tossing the hanky into sparks before it hits the ground. Lup's cracking up again, a welcome smile to cover the stress of the day. 

"Night Barry, save some _coffee_ for us." With a wink for good measure, she heads off after Taako. Gods, the goofs that'll come from this... she doesn't regret teaching him one bit.

Barry’s laughing hard, still blushing. The twins’ mock offense as his reply lands only makes him laugh harder, breathless and tearing up as Taako makes his dramatic exit. They’re gonna tease him forever, totally worth it.

“Night, Lup,” he manages as he starts to catch his breath. Ass: covered, at only the expense of probably long-term friendly ribbing. Whether Taako noticed his focus was on Lup, or suspects his attraction, Barry doesn’t really know, but they all needed the laugh.

Gods, her laugh is beautiful. That’s just a fact, a thing he knows about her, he tells himself. He’s pleased to be the one who brought that laugh out, even if it meant sacrificing a chunk of his dignity. He smiles all the way back to his room.

\--

The twins are already up and at 'em by the time Barry shows up for breakfast, not an uncommon occurrence given their lesser need for sleep. Coffee's already in the pot, some sweet-smelling-something getting mixed up on the counter. Taako huffs a still-offended "Barold." at his entrance. 

" _Morning, B. Want makeout?_ " Lup bites back a grin from her seat on the counter.

Barry bursts out laughing, which is a good reason for his face to turn red, he’s sure. Of course, this, naturally. There’s nothing to do but turn into the skid here. And so it is that he answers, trying and failing for deadpan—

“ _With sugar, please._ ”

That sends Lup cackling, grasping for the edge of the counter for dear life. _This boy knows not what he means..._

“ _Coming right up._ ” She preps his mug as requested, pouring herself another while she’s at it. 

“Just what the doctor ordered.” She slides his mug to him, returning to her place on the countertop. “Literally, I guess, with the PhD and all.” She offers her mug to cheers. There’s gotta be something poetic there— hers stronger than it looks, his sweeter than it seems. But she’s too chuffed with their goof to comment.

Barry accepts his mug and raises it to clink with hers. “Thanks,” he says, and takes a sip. “I needed that.” He winks. 

He catches the look on Taako’s face and smirks, then turns back to Lup. “You know, this may just be the best I’ve ever had,” he says, fighting to keep a straight face.

She snorts, waggling her eyebrows over the lip of her mug. She catches his eyes flick behind her, and shares in his devious look. 

“Glad I could be of service, Bluejeans.” There’s an exaggerated gagging sound from behind her, sending her cackling again.

Barry snickers at Taako’s reaction. “For real, though, after breakfast? As my mother was fond of reminding me, I’m meant to be useful, not decorative; want a hand with the dishes and then maybe try and turn these notes into something organized?” He still hopes they’ll make it back, and if— _when_ —that happens, this research will blow everyone’s minds.

“Hell yeah, put those hands to work, kid! Wanna grab some plates and I’ll bring over the _coffee_ ....” _Wink._ “I’m feeling like writing a _book_ on this shit, with all the stuff we’ve found out! Fantasy Nobel Prize _who?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SA: In which Barold is me during my first ASL-heavy event... We've all been there, right?  
> These folks are Trying, and they're making progress (but at what cost), and I for one am so proud. 
> 
> ST: Y'all I *love* me some crew as family content. After all, sometimes families bond by teasing each other over hilarious misunderstandings! 
> 
> Hope everyone's staying safe and staying connected, we need our bonds more than ever right now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good news about living through the worst event of your life is that now it’s over, and it will never happen again. 
> 
> Right?

Back again in the Royal Beasts' court, after months of diligent work, Barry is nervous. Something doesn't sit right. Something is wrong. The sky is overcast. Any more cloud cover and it'll start to get...dark. Then Barry sees something that shakes him to his core.

He's seen plenty of disturbing stuff in his handful of decades. Necromancy isn't a field for the squeamish, after all. He's seen life and death, and manipulated them himself. He bore witness to Tüson's destruction by tendrils of inky blackness, shot through with color. He knew the magnitude of that destruction, knew his mother was gone, knew every living person save himself and his six companions was gone. He felt those griefs, by comparison little and large. He saw all this.

From a distance.

But now, as the Royal Beasts quibble over their worthiness to take the Light of Creation, Barry sees the grass under his feet leached of its color, the trees nearby losing their verdance and he suddenly, abruptly knows.

_It's fucking happening again._

He clears his throat. "I don't mean to offend, but there's not much time, we need to come to a decision, Your Highnesses, before the power to choose is taken from us," he says. He gestures to the others, then the sky above. _Are you seeing this shit?_

Lup's about to shush him, _Let them take their time or they might not get the damned Light at all_ , but then she follows his gesture. 

And her blood runs cold. 

"Y-your Highnesses, I-," They haven't done research into the effects of stammering on this region's language, but she's sure at the very least her companions can sense the urgency. "Really, not to rush but, Barry's right. We... we have to do this _now_." 

It's rude not to look in their direction, but it's difficult not to be drawn in morbid awe to the world around them. It's not her vision-- Barry's seeing it too, and by the looks on her crew's faces, he's not the only one. It's as if something were pouring greyscale over everything, and sucking the colour out in the same breath. Flowers wilt in moments, and she can _feel_ the air change. It's come back for them.

Barry pushes down the simmering panic that threatens to spill over. He can’t let that out right now, it’ll be panic then rage then _nothing_ when he needs to do _something_ . So, _not now_.

The Royal Beasts don’t get it, that much is clear. They should be _leading_ , Barry thinks, ordering their subjects into shelter—

Where? Nowhere is safe. There is no shelter. This isn’t a storm. It’s not air turned violent, tearing up homes and trees and fields and spitting them back out as matchsticks. It’s not water, infuriated and dragging everything away, making its own path and sometimes never giving back what it takes. It’s _nothing_ , a horrific void that drew his home in like a vacuum and wants to do the same to this plane.

Barry turns to Davenport. “Captain—“ he can’t figure out what he wants to say. _Do something?_ Like what?

He looks to Lup. She’s gone ashen, she’s stuck to Taako like glue, and he’s quaking.

He tries again. “Your Highnesses, please, this is dangerous, we have to hurry!” That’s a sharper tone than he should use with royalty under normal circumstances, but between death and royal wrath, he’ll take wrath, thanks.

He looks back at Lup, and tries to make his face reassuring. _It’s okay,_ his expression lies.

Lup's mouth is pressed in a tight line, her expression somewhere between rage and being sick. If she could say something, she runs out of time.

In an instant, darkness breaks through the clouds in tar-like pillars, a precision shot for the light, and the regal owl carrying it. It squawks in something that must be pain, and then the sound vanishes, the void claiming its first victim of the Animal Kingdom. The other Beasts, mighty Bear and capable Wolf, are dwarfed in comparison to the tendrils of opalescent black that reach and claim and _consume_ everything. There's no time for discussion, no time for debate. 

They've already lost. 

The world seems to echo; everything happening in slow-motion yet all too quickly. Davenport calls for a retreat, barely heard by even Taako over the chaos of the hall. Guards and aides and civilians alike run for cover, and all Lup knows is the firm grip of her brother's hand in hers as they race out, _away_ . They're both taking potshots as they sprint, no use for spell-shaping when everything around them begins dripping with inky nothingness. Magic boosts their speed-- was that Merle? Luci?-- and Lup can barely get eyes on anyone. She thinks Barry's behind them, _please gods be behind them_ , but beyond the shrieks and crashes, nothing's certain.

Barry runs too, only a step behind Lup and Taako. They have to _go._ Davenport’s made the call; they’re gonna fly out and then...? That’s a helluva question mark.

He speeds up as much as he can, pulls even with the twins. They have to make it, they have to get to the ship. _If Lup stumbles, he’ll carry her off this plane on his back, he swears it._ He can’t risk a look now, but as they run he hopes against hope that each one of them makes it through that door.

They burst into the ship, Davenport runs to start the launch procedures, one, two, three, four, five, Barry is six...

Magnus didn’t make it. _Fuck._

The ugly, panicky burn crawls up Barry’s chest again and he slams that motherfucker back in its box. _Not. Now. It’s not. Safe._ They’re a man down and they need to get out of here, who knows to where, but not here.

His body is a machine. It can follow the tense orders from the captain, it can make sure everyone’s as safe as possible, it can look calm to mask the screaming horror inside.

It's only after they step onto the deck that Lup risks a look back, gripping the railing to keep from throwing herself overboard when she sees Magnus. Watches him run _away_ from them, back into the fray, scooping up bear cubs and slashing down tendrils until they're in the air, _they're leaving him,_ and he goes down and he _doesn't get up_ and Lup's certain she's going to be sick. The second they break cloud cover, the second she's stopped moving and she can't see him anymore, that's when she breaks. Choking on her breath, clinging to Taako; how did they _lose him?_

The last thing Barry sees as they take off is Lup, right before his consciousness is violently torn through space and blinding white light and put back in another spot in the deck, the same spot as last time. He’s still him, but in a memory of a body, with the same crick in his neck as that day—

He shakes his head and checks for his crewmates—one, two, three, four, five, _six_ —Barry is seven?

The atmospheric shield goes up, and it looks just as warbly as her tear-soaked vision. _Fuck_ , okay, there will be time for mourning once they're out of danger--

Lup's holding the rail of the deck with white knuckles ~~wait didn't I let go?...~~

Their world is burning in opalescent darkness ~~not our world, a different one...~~

She blinks, her body shudders as it recognises its position from not moments but _months_ ago. She turns to see if she's the only one to feel this awful deja vú but she sees--

"MAGNUS!" If her cheeks had dried themselves, she'd have no way of knowing. She has to see that he's real, and she's running to hug him and he _is_ , and Lup might just break all over again. And then, she punches him. 

"You idiot! You could've died! You-- We _saw you die!_ " She scans the rest of the deck in utter confusion, but the rest of them are there. They all... made it?

Barry rushes toward Magnus, a few steps behind Lup. He can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, he checked, Magnus wasn’t on board, then he _was_ , now he _is,_ and godsdamn is Barry gonna have some indelicate questions as soon as everyone’s emotions are stable. Clearly he died down there and was pulled back up, the same way Barry was pulled back to his launch position, and whatever caused it _had no respect for the fact that he was dead._

“Do _not_ scare me like that again,” he says to Magnus. “Fuck, I thought we’d lost you! Are you okay?”

Magnus shakes his head, placing his fingers to a black eye— ~~from the bar fight???~~ “I’m okay? I don’t remember getting to the ship, what happened? What do you mean you saw me die, Lup what the fuck?”

He's a bit wobbly, but solid matter against Lup’s hand. They hadn't lost anyone. They'd outrun that thing _again_ , and they'd _all lived_ . "But-- You-- Magnus you _didn't_ get on the ship. I-- Someone saw that too, right? Ko?" 

Merle steps between them, silently eyeing Magnus up and down. "Well, I'll be. Swore ya beefed it there." He takes a pulse, nods, and pats Maggie's hand. "Should probably do a physical when we land, but yer not dead. Don't make me have to check again." The ol' man smiles, but it doesn't take a genius to see his almost-grief. 

The intercom crackles to life before anyone else can get a word in-- "All hands to the cockpit, repeat all hands to the cockpit."

Barry turns at the sound of the intercom, and can’t resist placing a hand on Magnus’s shoulder as they head into the cockpit. He’s here. He’s alive. They’re all alive, somehow, but the adrenaline will take a _while_ to burn out of Barry’s system.

Captain Davenport turns as the crew enters. “Everyone accounted for?” he asks. “All but—holy _shit,_ Magnus, someone debrief me this instant!”

Magnus clears his throat. “Okay,” he says, “what I know is that I was helping get everyone to shelter, and then _nothing,_ and then light, and now I’m on the ship and I guess I’m fine? Lup says I died,” he explains.

“I watched him go down, Sir.” Lup looks apologetically at Magnus; it can’t be easy to hear that. “After the rest of us got on board.” 

Barry chimes in. “I did a headcount as we lifted off, Captain. He was missing at that time, but that’s as much as I could tell from where I was. I... _moved_ , somehow, from one part of the deck to the other. Did anyone else just _jump?_ ”

At the mention of the _move_ , everyone chimes in. Lucretia jumped entire sides of the deck, a rather nauseating ordeal from the look on her face. Merle reports a bit of vertigo, feeling turned about; the twins were already together in basically the same spot. There’s a moment of everyone speaking at once that sends Lup blinking, shaking her head. 

“No, no— HE DIED? Magnus died! We— how?? I don’t want to sound crass but what the _Hell_ just happened? _You_ moved, and _he_ died! This is _crazy_...”

She saw him die. Barry feels sick. When you see someone die, you need...rest, and care, and help to process something awful like that. That's what should happen here. But apparently when you see multiple planes consumed with all inhabitants and watch a crewmate you've known a year die before your eyes and die yourself, actually, _you don't have the luxury._

Scratch another tally mark down, there's something else this bullshit has taken: the luxury of space to heal.

Barry can feel the ugly stuff coming back, white hot with anger over this new theft. He swallows it.

"Did we time travel? Is this some time travel bullshit? 'Cause cha'boy didn't sign up for that," Taako cuts in.

Barry doesn't know. He turns to Lucretia, who's begun to shake off some of her nausea. "Luce, do you know for sure, did we all end up where we were before?"

She flips through pages, all the way back to the beginning, and skims her record quickly. "All of us," she confirms. "Like setting a chessboard back up for another game." She flips to the present and starts writing, fast.

" _Gods_ \-- Captain, can we touch down? Is there anywhere left? I need to sit down..." Lup grabs for a jump seat, not trusting her legs after the running and the death and the _time travel?_ None of it makes sense, this can't _physically_ be happening. Magnus should be dead! He died! That's how people that die are! At the very least he shouldn't be on this ship with them, hurtling through the planes _again_ , going... fucking where?

"My monitors went to static a minute or two before I called you all in. I can't piece together what we've got back yet, but... This isn't familiar." Their captain looks just as shaken as the rest, tail swatting in frustration that betrays his stoic face. Lup's head falls back against the jump's headrest-- This isn't--

"This is _not_ happening. Is this a dream? This is a dream. A year-long, bullshit fever-dream. And I for one would like to _wake up now!_ " Taako's pacing in front of her, somewhere between snarky disbelief and actual rage. He cracks his knuckles as he goes, muttering elvish obscenities. Merle looks to be... praying? And Magnus is having some sort of well-earned and fully gesticulated existential crisis. Davenport's going red in the face. 

"Everyone, QUIET!" All eyes train on the Captain. "We are going to survive this. As your superior officer, I am ordering everyone to take a breath, and get. To work. Lucretia, Highchurch, on these readouts; let's find somewhere to land this thing. The rest of you. Make sure that _thing_ didn't take out any more of this ship. We've done this before, and dammit we'll do it again. Is that. C _lear_?"

Check the ship. That's doable, Barry thinks. Just inspect everything for damage. They did this before, and they fixed it, and they survived. It will be okay, hell, it's not significantly worse than one year ago with the exception of an entire planeful of really friendly animals that Barry can't bear to picture right now.

Lup stands. She nods. She takes Taako's hand. Same as last time. Like nothing ever happened ~~so many lives, the mongooses, everyone.~~ They start at the bow, roaming the halls, front to back, Barry and Lup and Taako and Magnus, surveying steel and fluorescents. Magnus, who's looking physically no worse for wear, seems to zone out a bit too often for Barry's comfort. Like he could disappear into ink and chaos in an instant. Lup tries not to think about it.

Barry looks over dents and scratches, moving down the starboard side of the ship. So far, nothing that looks much worse than cosmetic... _oh godsdammit_ . Half a panel crushed inward, hard enough to pull edges from their rivets on one side. They'll need to set down _soon_ to fix that. He radios back to the others, relaying the damage.

"Well, this might as well happen." Taako huffs, inspecting the panel. They could possibly bend it back, but trying to get it to hold without the rivets? Dubious at best. "I'm straight outta spell-slots, my dudes. Shit's broke as hell." He gives it a thunk for show, and a rivet hits the floor with an echo as if on cue. He heads off in the other direction, confident in Barry's ability to relay the message. Magnus gives the dent a once over and, not liking what he sees, follows Taako down the hall. 

Lup stands. She looks. The way the hull's been sent in, it'd just have to be pushed from their side. And riveted in and welded and... Focus. What can you do _now_ ? Push. No way she could pull it off. Unless... A flame lights in her hand, and she presses her palms together, pulling apart a growing mass of fire. _Focus_. 

Flames spring forth, connecting with warped metal in a shower of sparks before she reigns it in, heating the panel instead of shocking it. She knits her brow, concentration keeping the flames around her fingers but not _on_ them. _Focus_. She shoves her whole body into the panel, the heat making it only just pliable enough to bend. Flames curl around her in an array of colours-- red-hot metal and blue-white rage ~~opal eyes staring back from an uncaring void~~

She barely registers the pain, the steel's already so hot when her concentration falters.

Barry watches, eyes not quite able to focus on the flames wreathing Lup's hands as she slowly, carefully presses the hot metal. The muscles in her arms are tight and strong as she pushes--and that's when Barry sees her jerk, and the smell hits him.

Burning flesh.

"Lup!" he cries, and reaches, pulling her back by the shoulders, but the damage was done in a second. Her hands--shit, they look bad, and she's not reacting, _she's numb._ Third-degree? Easily. She's lucky it's not worse, she had that panel hot enough to _bend_.

"Hey!" The panel’s still warped, still jutting out way too far to be safe, she can _do_ this. " _Wha--_ Oh.. gods..." She goes to sign with her question, like she almost always does, but her hand doesn't quite move right. And it _looks_ \-- It doesn't even register that she's looking at her own palms. It doesn't even _hurt_ . _It doesn't hurt._

"Come on," he says, his voice strained. "Let's get you to the medbay, you're hurt, careful." He wraps an arm gently behind her back, loose enough to shrug off at will but firm, solid, there. He feels sick all over again, Lup's hurt now, on top of whatever's gone on with Magnus. "You too, big guy, medbay, we can't...we need all of us healthy, come on."

"No, no, no, no.... Barry, it doesn't hurt. Barry, that should _hurt_ ." She might be a chemistry girl, but she's taken enough A&P to know that if something like that doesn't hurt, that's the worst case scenario. She lets him walk her through the halls, holding her hands close to her chest when they pass Taako. _She had it, she should've had it._ Lup and fire go together like Magnus and punching things. Though it seems neither of those pairs were giving the best results lately. 

She can't even look Captain Davenport in the eye, pulling Merle away from finding safety to deal with her reckless mistake. A lecture would be better than the worried faces as the situation is explained for her, as she's led down another hall. Thank the gods Merle keeps the medbay filled to the brim with plantlife --good for the oxygen, he says -- Lup couldn't handle the sterile walls on top of the guilt.

Barry takes deep breaths as they walk. This is bad, it’s awful, but he needs to get ahold of himself because overreacting will only make things worse.

Somewhere inside of the swirl of emotions a piece of himself that Barry doesn’t particularly like wants to _yell._ He feels like panicking, shaking some sense into her, _what the fuck were you thinking? Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again! You’re hurt, you scared me, you’re scaring me still!_ He shoves that impulse back along with, well, a lot of things, today, apparently, to sort through later ~~or ideally, never.~~ She doesn’t need a bigger-than-her scary guy stepping way out of line and yelling in her face, she needs medical attention.

More deep breaths as they enter the medbay, Magnus in tow. Magnus can wait, Lup’s burns are priority. Barry guides her to a cot. He hates the way she looks sitting there, looking upset and injured. He drapes a blanket around her shoulders. Better? A little, hopefully.

The blanket is a welcome weight; she's already sweating from the amount of exertion, but it's grounding. Like Barry's hand on her arm. She focuses on her breath.

Lup is no stranger to injury. Being self-taught in evocation magicks is bound to come with messy consequences. She's got the burn scars, the Lichtenberg figures, the hearing loss to show for it. Years of mistakes that have made her a competent wizard. Her power is fearsome and her focus is reliable. _Was_ reliable. ~~Her palms look familiar, char flaking off like colour falling from the trees.~~

Merle rummages in drawers, building a pile of both medical and magical equipment on the cot beside her. Taako has bullied his way onto her other side, an arm tight around her shoulders-- she'll hear about this later, once they're safe. For the first time in a long time, Lup feels small. 

"Lup? I need to heal this, but it can't all heal in one go." Merle pats her knee, "Gonna hurt like a sunuva." 

Taako scrunches his nose, but Lup nods. "Do it."

Merle starts the spell, and Barry can see Lup’s hands looking steadily less alarming as the healing takes hold. Her face abruptly twists in pain, and she stiffens and leans heavy into Taako’s arm. Taako holds her steady as Merle keeps going. _The nerves are healing,_ Barry realizes in a detached way, she’s starting to feel it all. He hovers anxiously. “It’s alright, you’re doing great,” he encourages, patting her arm gently. She’s all the way back to blisters and swollen redness now, a little more and she’ll be hovering somewhere between ‘nasty sunburn’ and ‘cooking accident’; that’ll be painful and sucky, but not dangerous anymore, at least, more ‘cool water and aloe’ territory. Barry breathes a sigh of relief.

Through the whole ordeal, Lup doesn't cry out. She grits her teeth, presses her forehead into Taako's shoulder, but she keeps quiet. She did this to herself-- she was reckless, she let her concentration slip, and now she's paying the price. She watches the magic work, stitching her back together and drawing some of the heat out, and she carves the image in her mind. Every fuck up has a cost. 

Merle finishes up the spell and assesses what’s left. He looks up at her. “This ain’t pretty, lucky it wasn’t any worse,” he tells her. “No shenanigans for awhile, got it? Between you and Maggie, you’ll run me into an early grave.”

"Sorry Merle, won't happen again. Thank you." Her fingers move a little easier, but the sting keeps her from attempting too much. Merle finishes dressing her hands, leaving her looking a bit like a boxer in all the white tape. Too medical-looking for her taste, she'll have to see if Lucretia will paint them up all pretty when they all finally take a moment to decompress. _If_. 

Merle offers her a pack of Fantasy Advil™️, which he hands to Taako with a pointed look when she turns it down. "I'll be alright ol' man; remind me to tell you about the lightning one, now _that_ was a doozy." Taako swats her, and Merle just chuckles, getting Magnus set up for a once-over.

Barry breathes easier. That sounded almost normal, and some of the tension’s gone from her frame. _The lightning one?_ Wow, just, she’s a powerhouse, absolutely amazing to just sit there through all that like a rock, without even a sound. 

He gives her another light pat to the arm, not wanting to hurt her, not sure what’s overstepping. That’s good, right, friendly? Nice and appropriate, feelings in the box, extra locks. “I’m glad you’re okay. You had me worried there,” he says, trying for light but not quite nailing it. “Are you good? I want to check on Magnus but if you want some company, I mean, it’s up to you?” _Smooth, Barry, communication at 0% clarity, good words doing,_ he tells himself sarcastically.

She smiles at the pat, more welcome weight however brief. Taako's hand doesn't leave her back, and though she feels dwarfed with the attention, she's not asking anyone to move. They mean well, and focusing on anything but herself might keep her thoughts from barrelling on. "I think I'll... sit for a bit? I wanna see how Mags is doing too, if ya guys don't mind.."

"Bold a you to think I'd let you outta here not ten minutes after ya come in." Merle looks away from Magnus's vitals to shoot her a look that reads _I shouldn't have to tell you_. "You know the drill kid, third degree means shock, so keep yer butt in that bed until we're done with Magnus, at least." 

"Who you callin' kid-- I've got thirty years on ya easy." She rolls her eyes, but there's a grateful smile in there.

Barry smiles at their banter, then pulls himself away and heads to Magnus’s side. Merle continues checking him over until finally he stops. “You know, for a guy who just died, you’re in awful good shape,” he remarks. “Only thing wrong with you’s that shiner. You remember what happened that put you down?”

Magnus blinks and shakes his head slightly. “Yeah,” he says finally. “It hit _here._ ” He lays his hand over his stomach, just below his ribs. There’s nothing, not even a bruise there. He hesitates. “You guys, it tore me out of myself and then the only thing I could feel was _want._ And then I sort of zoomed back on board and I felt _fine_ and you all said I died. But for like a minute there? I was full of _nothing_ and wanted _everything,_ ” he says.

The fact that he's seemingly _fine_ is throwing her for a loop. He presses his hand over a nonexistent wound, and it doesn't make a lick of sense, she watched him fall and that much force to his core? No one comes back from that. She watches him from the cot, talking about being torn from himself, the void, the _need_ , every word feeling more and more foreign to her. She must look pale or confused-- she is-- because Taako pulls her tighter, signing words only some of which Barry can understand. " _What's wrong? You_ ~~_in pain?_ _Dizzy?_ "~~

She waves him off with a stiff " _No, no-- Fine._ " and focuses on Magnus. "What do you mean ‘zoomed’? We all like.. reset? But we were also _on the ship_ to begin with? I didn't-- Did anyone see Magnus _get here_?"

 _Zoomed._ Barry’s starting to track with Magnus a little, ‘zoomed’ is a pretty good descriptor for what happened to him, too, except he didn’t die. And Magnus is missing some pretty significant damage, left with just a black eye. Either he was dragged on board physically and healed beyond what should be possible all at once or he was dragged on board incorporeally and this is a new body that just appeared somehow.

Which is pretty clearly bullshit, right?

But if that’s what happened, it would account for Barry’s neck pain from the nervous sleep before launch, too. And that cut Merle’s got.

Barry quickly walks over to the nearest chair and sits down. It’s gonna be a helluva ride working through this shit. “I zoomed, too,” he says. “Like an out-of-body feeling, right? I thought I was just freaking out, but then I wound up where I was during the launch. Maybe it was just...like our, whatever is _us,_ being reassembled as we were.” Okay, saying it out loud does _not_ make it sound better. “The only other thing I can think of is that he was physically dragged on board and came back to life undamaged, and I think we would’ve seen at least part of that.”

Okay, maybe Lup _is_ going a bit whack because Doctor Barold J. Hallwinter just suggested snap reanimation, and if _anyone_ has the brains and necromantic know-how to know that's not possible, it's him. So it must be the other thing, right? Except the other thing sounds just as crazy. 

"I think we need to discuss this as a team, Luci might have records that could help figure it out? What if we land and it's the same place? What if... what if we just got caught up in something and now we're... home?" She might as well lay it out, scattered thoughts be damned. She's still got hope, they've still got Magnus, maybe everything was a huge fluke of planar travel and it'll fix itself. Maybe this nightmare can be over.

 _Oof._ Lup's just up and said the thought Barry hadn't been able to let himself think.

What if they're home?

He’d tried thinking that they could make it home somehow in the first few weeks. Every morning he woke with renewed hope, and every night he was racked with the pain of a fresh shattering of that hope. He's been, out of necessity, working on the assumption that they'll never see home again and just have to survive the best they can now for, gods, he's not sure how long?

That's a lie. He knows exactly how long. It's been 47 weeks and 4 days.

But now, he nods. "We for sure need to call a meeting. We need--Magnus? Are you with us, bud?" he asks gently.

Magnus snaps back to attention. "Uh, yeah, I'm--sorry, what's the plan?" he asks.

Barry glances over to Merle. Magnus is fine _physically,_ but he may not be _fine-fine._ Understandable, but not great, either. "For sure we need that debrief, the sooner the better, and you two should probably stick around here for a bit, wouldn't you say, Merle? We can't really afford to gamble your recoveries," he says.

"The debrief is more important, _touching down somewhere_ is more important. I'm fine, and we'll all be better once we put this bird down and have Cap'n's full attention. If... Mags, if you need to sit and like, exist, for a bit? That's totally understandable, and honestly probably a good idea. But we can't leave Cap'n and Luce on their own to land this thing." She shrugs off the blanket and Taako's arm, his protests met with a sharp " _I'm fine._ " She's headed for the door before her hand stills. 

Merle gives Barry a noncommittal gesture. "If she's gonna faint she'd've done it. Light activity and _please gods don't go pickin' shit up, Lup!_ " She's already out the door, Taako hefting himself dramatically off the cot to follow. He's seen this song and dance with her before; different cleric, same spiel she's going to ignore. 

"Now, you're _physically_ fine, big guy, but until we know what in the hell happened to ya, I'm gonna want to check in regularly. And you tell me if you start havin' other symptoms, okay?" He pats Magnus's arm, not sure what else to offer. If it ain't broke, he can't fix it.

Barry lets out a sigh. He'd expected as much, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He follows after the twins as he hears Magnus agree to check in. That's at least a comfort. Barry doesn't believe a word of it, though.

He catches up to Lup and Taako in the cockpit. Captain Davenport looks stressed, scanning beneath them for a place to land. Lucretia sits nearby, one eye on an instrument panel, writing.

The captain sighs. "I agree, we do need a debrief, now answer my question: has Highchurch cleared you for duty or not?" he asks.

Lup huffs, face pleading. Her hands sit useless at her sides, not animated for the first time maybe ever. "I-- limited, _obviously_ , but I can't do nothing, Sir. Just let me take a look, see if the atmosphere can host us, _something._ I-- I won't touch anything, I swear." She feels like a petulant child. Yes, Davenport is the superior officer, but she has a job to do. If she can't do that, she's just letting her team down again. 

Taako presses ahead, pulling up environmental readouts and overlaying them with the patchy map Lucretia's been able to piece together. He drags aside an atmospheric data set, shooting Lup a quick glance. Nothing's changed _Taako's_ working ability, and if Lup can see some numbers and draw some educated conclusions, well that's her job, right? Her tail still slashes in frustration, but her eyes do catch the charts and her brain knows what to do with those figures.

"Fine," Davenport relents. "But take a seat, and I want only the minimum necessary out of you. We can afford to limp along now, but we need you back to full health, the sooner the better."

Barry runs his eyes over the readouts, then out over the plane below. It certainly wasn't home, and it didn't look like the plane they'd just left either. The land masses were the wrong shape. His heart drops. He hadn't really hoped, but...yeah, he had.

He gets to work, helping search for someplace soft, open, and flat enough to land the ship. He can hear Lup's tail smack against the base of her seat. She's justifiably, understandably frustrated. He can't fix that. That's frustrating, too. He can't get them all home, either. _Shit._

"Yessir." Lup slides into place next to Taako, running the maths in her head to the best of her abilities. No touching, no holding, means no running equations on the computer or on paper. Why are hands so _damned useful_? 

One thing's absolutely certain from the readouts; this place isn't home either. The O2's _way_ too high, for one, and that level of helium in the air is going to make for some weird science. But if she can trust her mental maths (and she _should_ be able to), the atmosphere won't kill them. 

Eventually, they agree on a place to land; elevated enough they won't immediately go hyperoxic, flat enough they can get the ship down, low enough foliage to see what the hell they're doing. They get as clean a landing as they can hope for-- that busted panel finally sending up an alert when the oxygen levels rise inside the cabins. Lup sits back in her seat, taking a slow breath. _Let's just hope the locals are friendly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Hoo buddy, one cycle down! This one still gives me chills to reread, and I've been looking forward to posting it. From here we start to skip forward a bit just like in canon, but not to worry, you'll be seeing all our favorite canon cycles and then some!
> 
> SA: Oh gods ohh geez ohh no. Please forgive us. This hurt to write, but that's on Room For Growth! Right?...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New plane, new challenges, new ways to work together. 
> 
> Also submission to the mortifying ordeal of being known.
> 
> Anyhow. That’s teamwork, baybee!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new plane also brings with it new playlists! Enjoy Cycle 5 vibes from:
> 
> SuccinctAbilities [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2bFRkuOLWguVGFZ2e7Io8b)
> 
> Stealthtable [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Q5dfYOyLeAlm3pW9opJgF)

—CYCLE 5—

Of course they’d have to land at  _ night. _

Why not? What else could possibly go wrong? Barry shakes his head as he leaves the spot he now thinks of as  _ his _ on the deck. He looks to each of the others, and flashes a thumbs up. Everything’s good so far; they’d held on through the turbulence as they entered the atmosphere.  The twins untangle themselves from each other, Lup shooting back a thumbs up from the floor of the deck. Jostled, but alive.

Barry makes his way to the cockpit.

And stops at the sight of the body.

_ Fuck. _

Captain Davenport lies still, crumpled over the helm, too much blood running down the side of his head.

“Merle! Get in here!” Barry calls sharply, even as he knows that it won’t make a lick of difference.   
Lup pulls Taako up, eyebrows raised when she sees the flick of his ears and feels the pull of his hand in hers, running to the cockpit. 

Taako chases Merle, outpacing everyone but Magnus, pulling Lup along. Then he sees why Barry yelled and immediately wishes he'd been Good Out There. 

They'd seen each other injured, they'd seen Magnus  _ die _ , but it hadn't gotten any easier. Lup stumbles to the crumpled form of her captain, fingers searching for a pulse, a breath,  _ something _ , and finding none. Her hands are shaking, eyes frantically looking for Merle, for Barry, for someone who knows what to do better than her. 

"Chest compressions? We should do chest compressions, right?  _ Merle, he's not breathing! _ "

“Barry, lay him down, everyone else back up, someone  _ fly the ship _ ,” Merle orders. He slips past Lup and kneels next to his captain as Magnus squeezes behind the helm. Merle’s tilting Davenport’s head back, breathing into his lungs, hands pressing down in a practiced, counted rhythm, again and again and again as the minutes tick by.

Barry feels heavier and heavier as he watches. It’s too long. He’s not waking up. It’s not working.    
Lup can't watch.

Merle sits back on his heels, face twisted in grief. He shakes his head. “He’s gone. Once we’re on the ground...we’ll have to--shit. We’ll have to bury him. For right now...” he gathers himself. “We can move him to the medbay, I guess, there’s not really a plan for this. Barry, you wanna carry him?”

Barry swallows hard and nods. They haven’t even landed yet and already someone’s dead. He already hates this place. Wherever it is. He moves to do as Merle asks. He can’t bear to look at anyone, but he can hear quiet sniffs coming from Lucretia and see Lup and Taako standing close for comfort out of the corner of his eye.

They haven't lost anyone since that first year, and  _ never _ so soon. No one's even been injured this early, save those things that come back like clockwork. Lup doesn't know how Barry can do it, look so damned composed, pick up a body that's just a body, not freeze up at the sight of death  _ up close _ . 

Every type of alarm in the world seems to go off inside Barry at once as he carries Davenport’s small body through the halls. If he were anyone else he’d make him sit down, encourage him to talk or sit in silence, ask if he’d like help with arrangements, make sure he had food and water available, come back later after everyone else had moved on and keep listening, knowing that it’s never over that quickly. He’d kick ass at this. Fuck it all.  _ Fuck it all. _

She watches him leave the cockpit. Takes her seat at the displays, tapping through readouts. Nothing in this atmosphere should negatively impact them, let alone gnomes in particular. Nothing about this was inevitable. An  _ accident _ took out their captain. 

She could be sick. 

Magnus lands the ship with only a minimal amount of crashing and thudding, but no one moves to leave the ship. There's a heavy something over the crew, a blanket of quiet that sits, suffocating, settling heavier and heavier. Lup can't take it. She'd rather face a corpse. She shoves off her seat, headed for the medbay. "Atmosphere's fine, go ahead and get some air, I guess."

Barry lays the captain carefully on the cot. “See you soon,” he chokes out, trying hard to forget where Magnus went last time _. _ He can’t move. He’s frozen and can’t look away, even to see whose footsteps he hears behind him.

Lup clicks open the door to the medbay, almost shocked that Barry's still there. From several feet away, they way he lays on the cot, Davenport could be sleeping. But she steps closer, places a tentative hand on Barry's arm, and Dav's chest isn't moving and she just can't keep looking. 

Her eyes screw shut. It'd be so easy to just. Set her head on Barry’s shoulder. Take some of the weight of the world off her shoulders, to rest for just for a moment, just until the world slows down a bit. 

She won't. He needs space to mourn, too. But it's a nice thought. 

Barry feels her hand on his arm. It’s warm and comforting, she’s here, Lup’s here. She's walking and talking and breathing,  _ alive. _ So is Barry, come to think of it. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He can cope, he’s got to, they’ve all got to.

"Hey," her voice is soft, afraid to break the mournful stillness. There's nothing to say-- the situation is bullshit-- but Barry's still wearing that mask of calm and it's  _ unsettling _ her. "We've landed, it's uhmm... it's safe, the air at least. You want to... get out of here? Maybe find a good place for..."  _ Fuck _ .

He finally turns away from the body, toward Lup. He offers her a weak smile. They’ll have to decide who does what now, those decisions won’t be made for them. Fuck. “Yeah,” he manages. That’s a task he can do, good, he has to do something or maybe never move again. “We should, we should find a place for him, food, water, need to check the ship. Are you okay? You’re not hurt from the landing are you? And like, okay, otherwise...?” he asks.

She takes a long, shuddering breath, risking a glance at the cot. She keeps expecting him to  _ move _ , to give them orders and do his job of making sure they do theirs. But he's not in there, she has to remind herself. Davenport is gone. It's on them now.

"I mean, no? No one's okay, but... No broken bones." He's right, the ship is most definitely not in peak condition, and they have to secure food for the year (it's always been a year), but they'll have time. They so rarely took the time to  _ mourn _ , and if this plane wasn't  _ immediately trying to murder them, _ Lup's insisting they start today. 

"What are you feeling, Barry? I can't offer much but a hug and an ear... well, in theory." She cracks a smile, hopeful that she can break through his calm façade too.

What is he feeling? Too much, honestly. Shock. Grief. Fear. Overwhelmed, and locking up from stress. Homesick. And she has her own feelings, too, it doesn’t feel fair to Barry to add to her pile of hurt, even though he’d gladly listen until she was soothed. 

He smiles back, a little more convincingly. “I’m...I don’t know, I think we’re all feeling a lot of shit. I miss him, and I’m worried about what comes next, but we’ll just have to deal, right?” he answers. He pauses.

“There’s no  _ just _ about it, Barry. We have to deal with it, but it doesn’t have to be pretty.” She lets up, keeping her hand on his arms. She can see in the hard set of his jaw that this boy needs something grounding. “This sucks, and it’s allowed to suck. We just have to survive it.”

“Yeah.” She’s right. It does suck. “A hug sounds real good about now though.” He wraps her in his arms, the contact and warmth and scent of her bringing with them a measure of peace and comfort. There is still beauty in the world. He has the proof in his arms.

Lup leans into him, trying to radiate as much comfort or compassion or  _ something _ as she can. Gods know he needs it. They all do. Hopefully it’s not too much that she squeezes him a bit, she’s always fancied herself a good hugger, if a bit touchy.

He doesn’t want to let go. He does have to, though, she’ll get uncomfortable, he’ll crush her. “Thanks,” he says, a little awkwardly. He can’t think of what else to say.

She gives his arm a pat, gives Dav one last look.  _ Rest easy, Cap’n. One year, fingers crossed. _

“I’m going to see if I can’t find a place for Cap, he deserves to not be stuck in the medbay. Could use some company, if you want to get some air?”

Barry drinks in her words, and her hands on his arms. He couldn’t ask for these things, but he does need them. He’s already feeling some of the unbearable racket in his head begin to quiet, leaving him a bit of room to breathe.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll come with you. Think he’d like, I don’t know, maybe being under a tree? Like we could find...I don’t know, maybe that’s a place to start,” he says. At the very least neither of them will be hunting for a suitable gravesite alone.

“Thanks. Yeah, I think something scenic would be nice. Want to go see if anyone else wants in?” A bit of the weight has been lifted, shared between them. It’s not much of a dent, but it’s a start, and that’s the hardest part. 

They head out to check in with the rest of the crew. Taako’s already gone, by the scent of things whipping up his Self Care Coffee Cake. Lucretia politely declines, says she might go knit on the deck for a bit of quiet. In the end, Magnus and Merle decide to take the east side of the ship, leaving Lup and Barry to cover the west. It’s well dark by the time they set out, but Lup is armed with fire, darkvision, and determination. A girl can make do.

They head for the door, and Barry steps to the side to let Lup through, then freezes. It's pitch dark out there. Why are they doing this at night? That's a stupid idea, they should wait for daylight, like high noon, ideally, but definitely not what looks to be pitch blackness.

Barry can't see his hand in front of his face this way. He can't--he can't see what's  _ in _ the dark, is the thing. It could be  _ anything, _ is the problem, and here's the thing about risk. Calculated risk is fine. Pushing things a little further into the unknown with full knowledge that this is where things get messy is dandy. Walking out into  crushing, palpable, consuming darkness on an unknown plane to lay your dead captain to rest is  _ Not! That! _

It's still outside, almost peaceful. No indications of people, or even animals yet, but they've only been on the ground an hour at most. The oddest thing is the dark. The past times they've landed on a new plane, they'd had at least a few hours of daylight to work with. This time, it was easily dusk, turning entirely dark in what little time they'd been here. Lup's starting to think daylight might not be a universal constant.

Barry reaches forward to tug at Lup's sleeve-- _ gods, like a five-year-old, dammit, fucking embarrassing _ \--before she can get too far. "Wait, shouldn't--I mean, it's dark out, shouldn't we look in the morning, that's better, right?" he tries.

She squints in the dark, eyes adjusting to catch Barry's words. They should wait? "I mean, we've got torches if we really need, and I can see just fine, nothing's going to sneak up on us. I'll be our eyes, you be our ears, yeah? Plus, we don't even know how long it'll be dark-- We haven't arrived in the dark before. This might be our best shot." She steps off the gangplank, always a little happier on solid ground. A quick walk about, scout some possibilities, clear their heads. Hopefully they'd be back in enough time to hassle Taako for some cake.

She's just gonna go out there? In the dark? Oh, Barry doesn't like that one  _ bit _ .

"Wait, but--what if we get separated? We won't--are you sure we shouldn't wait 'til morning? One of us could get hurt," he says. "There might be dangerous wildlife, you know, anything at all out there." That's reasonable, surely?

He can't bring himself to admit that he's afraid--he's an  _ adult, _ he has a  _ doctorate _ for fuck's sake--but neither can he bring himself to walk through the door into the  _ dark. _ There's no good choice here, but what does he expect? There haven't been good choices in four years now, why should there be any in a fifth?

She can hear his voice, but not quite his words... He's not coming? She whips around, raising a hand at the light from the ship. He's outlined in the light, a stubborn shadow. 

"What?... Come on, we'll be fine if we stick together, but I can't hear for  _ shit _ out here. It'll be okay," She waves him over, realises he probably can't see her terribly well. She sighs, backtracking several feet up the plank. 

"Dude, it's okay. If you don't want to, that's fine, but I think the walk'll do us all good. And if we run into anything, we can head straight back, yeah?"

She wants him to come. He's gotta, but also he can't? He has to be the ears, that's what she said, but it could be dangerous.

There's no way to explain what's going on without explaining what's going on. Godsdammit, shit, fuck, she's gonna make fun of him and he's gonna fall into a pile of ash, and then she'll have seen way too much death today.

He takes a deep breath. "Lup, it's dark--it's  _ terrifying out there, _ how can you just go out there, there could be anything--" he babbles. This isn't going...well, from Barry's perspective. Even after the initial crush had eased up a bit, Barry's spent the last four years truly delighted by Lup's company, and it looks like all that's gonna change now. He doesn't know how she'll manage to never look his direction again on the crowded ship, but that's definitely gonna happen, along with probably endless mockery? May as well bring this thing home. "Lup, I'm scared," he says.

_ I'm scared. _ Oh.

Her brow furrows, mouth all scrunched up in thought for a long minute. She nods, slowly. "M'kay."

Her steps creak on the metal gangplank, closing the gap between them. She sits down, scooting out from the doorway enough to get a good breeze on her, to see the stars. They're a comforting constant; every year they go back into the glittering sky, every time they come back from it. Odd that the farthest thing from them-- the things they would never actually reach-- felt the most grounding. She pats the space beside her, face to the sky, and pulls her knees up. 

"Is this alright? We don't have to go out, but... I'm not ready to go back in there yet. You can, if you want." She shrugs. Where Barry might expect disappointment in her voice, there's none. Quiet, a bit sad, but none of it towards him. In her eyes, there's no reason it would be.

That...okay, the light from the door's there,  _ Lup's _ there. That'll be okay. The worst thing about the dark has always been the uncertainty--what if everyone's just gone? He can't  _ see _ them--but she is here. The dark's always been less of a problem with someone there, but that's a particular type of person, isn't it? His battle begins at bedtime. He can't just date someone for the spooning benefits, that's ridiculous. Relationships need--no,  _ deserve _ \--more than 'I can't sleep alone'. But for now, she is here, so he sits.

She isn't making fun of him. She isn't--he's not sure how to handle the massive sense of relief that comes over him, but she really doesn't even sound worked up about it at all, she just acts like it  _ is. _ He supposes it  _ is, _ at that. He didn't ask for it. It's just his brain doing some wacky shit like it does, and there's not a lot in the way of solutions, and a whole lot of things exacerbating it, all the more since they left home.

"Sorry, I can--if you want, I can try? I don't know, I just got a little--don't worry about me, I'll suck it up, just give me a minute," he says.

Lup rests her arms atop her knees, lays her head on that. "It's okay. Is it the dark? Or just the new plane in general?" She can understand. Without darkvision, she can only imagine how scary the dark must be. It's always a little jarring in the moments it takes to adjust; having that just  _ be _ your sight in the dark can't make it seem very inviting. 

Barry was not expecting this at all. He's thrown for a loop, here. "Uh, yeah," he admits. "It's the dark, it's like...I can't tell whether good folks are near and bad folks are away or vice versa. It's easier with someone else close, but that doesn't always...happen, you know."

She nods. It makes even more sense the way he explains it. Being alone and uncertain... she can understand that fear easily. The world can be terrifying when you're flying blind, let alone having never seen it in the first place. But the light will come back, at least on the ship. And until then, she can be here.

"We can wait til light if you want. Don't have to solve everything in a day, right? Fear's... not unwarranted, unfortunately, and admitting it's no small thing." She pats his shoulder, giving it a little friendly shake. It's these kinds of things they  _ needed _ to talk about, or they'd never figure out how to work together, how to accommodate and help each other. The strongest teams communicate. 

"If you want to go though, I'll be there with ya. And if I can help? At all? We're a team, Barry, that's what teams should do."

He grins a little as her hand leaves his shoulder. And makes a decision. "I think--if we go, can I keep a hand on your shoulder? I can't see shit out here, I'll walk straight into stuff that way, but I can listen. You're right, teamwork," he says.

"Yeah totally, that's fine. I can tell you about... what I can see, if that helps?" She looks into the dark, blinking until her eyes refocus. "The uhh... the ship light’s messing with me a bit, but it's grassy, I can see that much? There's trees, maybe... fifty feet out, I could tell from the bottom. I promise, I'll keep you posted."

"Okay, yeah, that helps. Thanks," he says. Her voice and the solid reality of her shoulder should help keep him grounded. Hopefully, anyway.

He moves to rise to his feet and extends a hand to help her up. "Thanks for being so--, I don't know, you're just being really good about it, I appreciate it."

Kind. She's always so kind to him, sometimes he's not sure why exactly. Maybe it's just her nature. But Barry's never been so glad for it. She's a bright spot in the darkness. He settles a hand on her shoulder. "Okay, let's do this," he says, still sounding a little uncertain.

She hops up, smiling to see him talking a little easier about it. "Of course, nothin' of it. No point bein' a dick when you could like... not." She shrugs, guiding him down the ramp and out into the grass. 

The grass is damp, the atmosphere just right for dewy nights. She heads for the treeline. Barry had said something about putting Davenport under a nice tall tree, could be a good place to start. 

"So, there's uhmm, trees up ahead. Everything's a little misty-- you can feel that, right? There's like a little bit of fog, it's really kind of pretty. Umm... hmm, I think the trees are pretty tall, like, compared to home? Over here's more spaced out than a real forest or anything. There might be a good spot around here." She looks around, searching for something different. Options. "Hmm... It looks clearer at the back of the ship-- less trees. Which way d'you wanna go?"

Barry considers, squinting. He can just barely make out some sort of shapes in the dark, those are the trees, maybe? Lup says it’s pretty, with the fog. He’ll just have to trust her on that one.

“Maybe more trees, to start? We should also try and see, maybe some of them have fruit or something,” he says.

A horrific screaming sound erupts from the trees as they approach. “ _ Shit! Motherfuck! _ ” Barry cries, his hand tightening on her shoulder. His heart pounds, as he looks frantically for the source of the sound, but can’t see anything.

Even Lup can hear that noise loud and clear. She starts, her hand flying up to meet Barry's on her shoulder. " _ Gods, dammit... _ "

Lup’s here. She’s here, it’s okay, deep breaths.

Ah, fuck. Barry knows that sound. He loosens his grip on her shoulder, heart still pounding as he places it. “Sorry, they, uh, they have cicadas here,” he says sheepishly.

She can't see a source for the sound, but cicadas makes sense. She watches a creature take flight, pointing it out to Barry with a laugh. "Guess they're not a fan either. Must be a bird or something, can you see that?" 

So there is wildlife here, that's good to know. Where there's wildlife, there's stuff that that wildlife can eat. A promising start. "There might be edible stuff in the trees, yeah? Let's see if we can't find some stuff for Merle to look at, see if we can eat it?" They press on into the trees, the buzzing of the cicadas(?) drowning out their footfalls. Lup's ears swivel, trying and failing to suss out a direction on the droning around them. It's annoying, to say the least, messing up what little she could parse.

Barry chuckles nervously in relief between shaky breaths. Cicadas are annoying, sure, but if he hadn’t already figured out how to ignore them by now, his life would be a complete hell. He didn’t expect them  _ here, _ though, and they damn near scared the life out of him. He catches the rustle of the trees as she points it out. He can’t see much of the bird flying off, but this is...fine? There are— _ were _ —trees and birds and cicadas back home, this is fine. He relaxes a little.

“Yeah, for sure,” he agrees. “You good? I can, uh, think I can cope with a few screambugs.” He still hates this, that’s not changed, but he’s a little more comfortable now.

"Yeah, I'm good. 'S long as you can hear fine, I can see fine. Go team." She laughs, guiding him further and further in. They pause every once in a while, stopping to investigate foliage or listen to some animal call. The light of the ship is always within sight, if they look behind them; Lup's careful not to take Barry out too far. She gets fear, gets that being without a sense only serves to heighten it. 

“Go team,” he agrees. 

She plucks a fruit(?) from a low-hanging branch, reaching for Barry's hand to show him. "Look, this might be something? Kinda looks like a pomegranate? Kinda hollow feeling like that, too. Wonder what colour it is... Y'think we could eat it?" She guides his hand to it, letting him hold the softball-sized thing. There's plenty of others still in the tree-- if this is edible, they're one step closer to survival.

He takes the fruit from her, feeling over its surface. She’s right, it certainly feels about the size of a pomegranate, gods, what if it is one? That would be awesome. They’re not too far from the ship, if there’s a whole grove of edible fruit here? That takes a ton of pressure off. Maybe this year would be easy, and they could just come out here in the sunlight, pick some fruit, eat it in peace. That could be tranquil, even. “I hope so,” he answers. “We can take it back, check it out. Any luck on a good spot so far?”

She searches around the area, letting him keep the fruit. Maybe it can serve as a reminder that this place  _ probably _ isn't out to get them. The tree it came from stands tall, as do most in the area. Aside from the few lower hanging branches, the tree seems to reach into the sky, probably climbable if they could get a few feet up it. There were ladders on the ship, they could manage. This could be the start of what they were looking for. 

"I'd like to keep scouting around, but... If this thing could feed us, y'know, keep us alive? Might not be a bad place." It's hard to talk about-- hard to  _ think _ about. If she keeps it abstract in her mind, she can deal. But there's nothing abstract about finding a nice place to bury a friend. If they're going to do him justice they've got to think about it, about  _ him _ . And that's going to hurt. It just will.

Barry considers this. That would be nice. Their captain, who had always done his best to keep them going, lying in a grove of trees that would keep them going, too. They could visit—gods, they didn’t have to think about that with Magnus? There will be a grave this time, since there’s a body to bury, and  _ time _ . Not like Magnus who went down and came back in a couple of minutes confused and shaken but otherwise okay. This time there’s a hole that won’t be filled again for a year. And even that’s hope, assuming that they all last the year. They’ll have to run and fight their way through the hell that is the Hunger’s coming and then the reward is getting Davenport back.

“I, uh, I like that a lot? We can visit him sometimes, and it’s close, maybe that’ll make it feel easier?” he says.

“Yeah, keeping it close would be nice. Not that we won’t move, maybe, but near the place we landed? Seems meaningful, y’know?” The year would suck without him, or course. But they could do what they can, make it survivable. 

She carries on, intent to do a good job of scouting. Where there’s foliage there has to be water, right? Hopefully running; it’d be easier to find and overall less risky. 

She guides him through trees and around bushes, carefully pointing out roots and stones in the path. “Ya hear anything? Might be too much to ask to find food  _ and _ water, but... A girl can dream.”

"Yeah, hopefully there's some close? I haven't heard any yet, but there's gotta be some somewhere" he answers. His hand on her shoulder is looser now, just resting there to keep them together. She's cautious, leading him around rough places and around branches that would knock him in the head, even when she could pass under them safely.

Barry scans the area, squinting into the darkness and listening intently. As he looks all the way to his right, he lets out a sharp yelp and nearly jumps out of his skin.

A pair of eyes glow in the darkness,  _ close. _

Nothing yet, but she'll keep her eyes out. There's gotta be water around here  _ somewhere _ \--

Lup starts, and the glowing eyes blink, looking around and behind frantically. "Shit, what, what is it?" She doesn't see anything coming for them; maybe he heard something? She looks up to the trees, searching for signs of movement, but there's nothing there. Just the faint hum of insects and soft haze of fog. "I don't see anything, what did you hear?"

Ah, shit. There's nothing to be afraid of. Barry draws a shuddery chuckle-sob-breath combo.

"Thank the gods,  _ fuck. _ It's you, it's just you, it's your eyes," he says, dimly aware that he sounds like an idiot. "I--fuck," he laughs, "I turned and--and I saw eyes and I didn't realize it was you? I thought someone was just standing there being quiet as fuck and  _ watching? _ It's fine, I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Wha--" It takes a second to process that they're not in immediate danger, but then Lup just laughs. It's not something that's on her mind, not something you really notice when you've got darkvision. She knows Taako's eyes shine a bit to her in the dark, but it's hard to really understand how  _ creepy _ that must look when it's the only thing you see of a person. 

She punches Barry's arm, "You scared the  _ shit _ outta me, Barry! Gods..." Her laugh is more chuckle and less snort now, but Barry can still see her shaking her head by the way her eyes move. "Am I that scary-lookin'? Y'know these  _ spooky eyes _ are keeping you from running into trees, right?"

Barry only laughs harder. "I--gods, I really--shit, I didn't mean to scare you," he manages.

It feels good to laugh after the day they've had, after all the running and death and goodbyes and the new plane. Lup's eyes shine in the darkness, something soft about them, large and intelligent and expressive. Now that Barry realizes they're there, they make him feel much more secure, too. She's right: those eyes are keeping him on the path, guarding him from danger.

"Your eyes aren't spooky at all, they're--" he catches himself. The end of that sentence is wholly inappropriate, way overfamiliar.  _ They're pretty. _ Come on, Barry, you're doing this now? Thought you had this handled, he scolds himself. "They're real nice." That isn't  _ better, _ Jesus Fantasy Christ, he scolds again.

She sees the pause, sees the drop in his expression. She laughs it off, even if it... sorta hurts, for some reason. Lup's not one for caring what people think, especially about appearances, but worrying that she's scaring him? That she's making his fear of this dark place worse? It sits uneasy. 

It's fine, she'll just keep her spooky eyes trained ahead, and maybe they'll find some water or some other weird fruit, and then they can head back into the light and all will be well.

"Yeah, yeah. You okay? Good to go a bit farther?"

He gives her shoulder a little squeeze. She's so--gods, she's amazing? She's a living nightlight, a place he can look to and find safety. He's getting sappy again, all tangled up just like that night in the bar when she gifted him shoes and kicked his ass at pool. This time, though there's no alcohol, Barry's still just as drunk.

"I'm good, hey, I--thanks. It's easier, with you here. I couldn't do this without you. Any of it." Go out in the dark, hold it together in the face of tragedy, hold conversations with animals, lose his home and mother and everyone and everything he's ever known, travel through the planes. He couldn't do any of it without her.

The dark will cover his blush, it'll be okay to take this moment to be a little vulnerable. She's been safe for him so far. She's never once been offput by his mess. It'll be okay, even if he still has feelings he has no business confessing tonight.

Lup's ears flick down, up, back. Why does he have to be so... so damned sweet? Without even trying, he continues to trust and confide and  _ care _ . Even when she scares him, drags him into the dark. He's leaned into her silly ideas, laughed with her jokes in the face of tragedy, and not once made her feel inferior when he easily could have. And he's thanking  _ her? _ It may be easier to traverse the dark with a strange glowing pair of eyes to guide you, but how many countless times has Barry made her time easier? Finding ways to communicate on her terms, hell, something as simple as picking ingredients off the top shelves for her. It's not even just her; Barry's been nothing less than a helping hand to every single crew member from the start. And he's always happy to do it. 

"We couldn't do any of this without you, either. I mean it, we're a team. We've gotta be." But it's more than that. They have to be to survive, yes, but it's for their own sanity too. With nearly five years of being stuck together-- and who knows how many more ahead of them-- getting along and caring about each other isn't an option. It's a means of survival when the whole of space-time seems to be against them.

Barry follows her down the path, confident in her lead. Okay, so... so. So feelings, they sure are happening. That's the thing with Barry, give the feelings an inch and they'll take a mile. He usually has them under better control than this, he tries anyway, otherwise life is just a string of messy little incidents like the time a schoolmate dug up an earthworm and gave it to him and Barry was so touched that he told his mother he'd marry the boy. Sometimes folks love a lot. It happens.

But he'll indulge, even trying to believe Lup when she tells him how needed he is, her voice a melody singing over the babbling accompaniment of the nearby stream--

"Wait, Lup--I hear water."

"You what? Where?" Her eyes are wide, searching through branches and low light as she guides him where he instructs. Bushes, bushes,  _ snake _ \-- nope, vine. She's nearly running, straining to hear what he does, to see what he can't. 

She pushes through thick underbrush, tugging him along until-- "Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop." Her arm shoots out to keep him from falling face-first into the running water. It's hard to gauge its depth, water reflecting only a bit less than her eyes do. She kneels,  _ It doesn't smell like anything, probably water? _ Hard to tell like this. "It's a stream-- maybe a river? It's not that wide... I'd guess twenty... maybe thirty feet? No telling how deep. We'll probably have to come back when it's light, but I think we did it?" She beams up at him, but it's cut short when she remembers he can only make out her eyes. Whoops.

Barry stops as Lup’s arm comes up, excited and a little breathless. This is so close to the ship, this is workable, they can survive. They’re doing it, finding food, water, a resting place.

She’s looking up at him, turning those gorgeous eyes on him full blast. He kneels beside her, grinning like a fool, and tentatively dips a couple of fingers into the water. It’s cool, and running swiftly. They’ll have to check it to make sure it’s safe, probably best to boil it until they’re sure, but still,  _ water. _ He pulls his hand back out. “It’s running, that’s incredible! That’s the best we could’ve hoped for, Lup, we did it!”

“Whoa, don’t touch that!” Too late. But he doesn’t flinch, isn’t pulled in by some river beast or poisoned by whatever flows here. It’s safe. At least for now.

She smiles. Laughs. “Okay... okay... we  _ might _ have done it. Maybe don’t go sticking your hands into alien rivers, but...” She sits back, so close to dipping her toes in. It’s just a little thing, something Davenport would absolutely chastise them for. It’s that thought that keeps her feet firmly on dry land. There will be tomorrow.

Hope swells in Barry's chest, alongside confidence. They can do anything together, their strength more than doubled and their weaknesses covered. He impulsively wraps her in a hug, awkward on their knees like this, but full to bursting with relief. “We did it,” he repeats.

She’s suddenly wrapped in strong arms, and the relief is so immediate she could cry. They did it. They’ve been thrown through space, lost a friend, been scared shitless, but they’d manage to find hope in all of it. 

“Yeah, we did...”

Barry feels bold, invincible with her here. Her caution gives him the anchor he needs to be brave, never stifling, but instead empowering him.

He releases her from the hug, and is immediately self-conscious. The reflexive apology that always waits there to smooth his nervous blunders doesn’t come, though. He isn’t sorry.

“We should tell the others, I’m—gods I can’t tell you how relieved I am, we’re gonna be okay,” he says.

She misses the contact the second he pulls away, but that’s neither here nor there. They’re both nervous on a new world, and his presence is a comfort. They’re safe, they’re in one piece, and they have a solid start to staying fed for the year. They can survive this together.

“Yeah, we should head back. We can come back tomorrow and test the river, but we could start testing that fruit tonight. Gods, I hope we can eat this stuff.” She laughs, picking herself up off the grass. “Wonder if the others found anything.”

Barry gets up, too. It must be late, it’s been dark for a while now, morning’ll come soon enough. He settles his hand back on her shoulder, easy and sure, carrying the fruit in his other hand. “Lead the way,” he says, a hint of teasing drama in his tone. They left the ship frightened and uncertain, but they’re returning full-handed and victorious.

“Maybe the others found an entire market or something, that’d be amazing. I guess that would mean we’d need whatever local currency there is, but we can get jobs if we need to, it’s fine,” he says, spinning out the hypothetical. “Maybe there’s a whole civilization, maybe a library, maybe we’re their dream of first alien contact.” He laughs. “We should lean on that, milk it for all it’s worth,” he jokes as they head back. The light from the ship looks like home, spilling out into the darkness. Lup’s eyes do, too.

His hypotheticals have her smiling. Showing up to an alien world and applying for jobs. Why not, their lives are already so godsdamned weird. She jumps in with her own wild tangents, “Yeah, totes. Ko and I could start a restaurant or a food stand or something— make Tüson food for these people. Show ‘em what real cookin’ looks like. Ohh geez, can we pull that whole ‘take me to your leader’ stunt? Chillax with the president or something?  _ Pfft... _ ” 

All of her ideas sound like bad science fiction films, but who’s to say it won’t be like that? Hell, they talked to freakin’ mongooses that first year, anything’s possible.

They touch base with the others once back on the ship. Magnus and Merle came back with similar fruits, one with a suspiciously Magnus-sized bite out of it. Lup insists that they run tests on the fruits still, but he doesn’t seem to be melting or growing horns, so there’s that. Taako and Luce are chatting in the kitchen over tea and steaming coffee cake; Lup takes a slice while diving into the incredible tale of How They Found Water.

Barry accepts a cup of tea as well earned, Taako pointing him to the decaf with insight born of familiarity. He sips it slowly, listening to Lup recount their mission, appreciating a suspicious lack of embarrassing details. He bolsters her story here and there, filling in and agreeing. It’s comfortable, and soon he feels the fatigue of the day settling in his shoulders and spine. He excuses himself, goes to head to bed.

On the way back to hit the shower, he passes Merle, looking off into space, deep in thought. “You okay?” he asks simply. Merle had tried, gods it had to be hard for him right now.

Merle gives himself a little shake. “Yeah, yeah,” he answers. “I’ll be fine, you gonna turn in?” Barry nods. “Night then,” Merle says.

“Night,” Barry echoes, and continues on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Oof, starting off a new cycle with a bang here folks! Stay tuned to find out what this plane has in store for the crew and (fingers crossed) for *some* personal and relational growth as well.
> 
> SA: In which Barold lives in an emotional Bath and Body Works, yet he's still got ashy feelings.  
> And Lup is no better.  
> smdh


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First contact time! Time to check out the local society, maybe pull a little “take me to your leader” bullshit, maybe stick real close to your partner. 
> 
> You know, your coworker. 
> 
> Your crewmate. 
> 
> Your safety buddy. 
> 
> Your very good friend. 
> 
> You know, them.

A few days pass— incredibly short days by anyone’s count. They’re looking at around 4 hours of daylight, if it can even be called that. The sun barely peeks over the horizon, a hazy dusk settling over the ship for a few hours before dissipating and leaving the world in a blanket of darkness for a long fifteen hours. 

It takes a lot of coffee to keep the crew’s internal clocks in some semblance of a rhythm, but they manage to pull a few hours of tests and research out of most nights. The fruit, as showcased by Magnus’s continued breathing, doesn't seem to be poisonous; it was something akin to a pomegranate-looking-persimmon-tasting-mega-fruit. The river turned out safe as well, basically water as they know it with some interesting mineral deposits. A bit of boiling, and it served its purpose. No one’s starving this year. 

After the problem of food and water is sorted, search teams for the Light of Creation are established. It could be a matter of days before the fall, and (as they realised in Cycle Three) they might not be on the right side of the planet to see. In the time they have, the consensus remains to scout the surrounding areas for intelligent life and prepare for the retrieval mission.

Even though the crew’s basic needs are secured and the search for the Light is coming together, Barry doesn’t like this plane one bit. The first night’s mission with Lup had been alright, good, even. He’d been more at ease in the dark than he could ever remember, thanks to her.

But he can’t live like this. He  _ can’t _ .

Every night is impossibly long, and his body still craves activity and rest in a rhythm that’s fully at odds with this plane’s sun. He’s constantly groping, stumbling, anxiously hoping that the next step won’t bring him face-to-face with something that will kill him and make sure it hurts the whole time he’s dying.

Worse, it’s only a matter of time before this darkness is replaced by a living one-- a creeping, palpable thing that devours everything and is never satisfied.

With each day, the tension in Barry’s shoulders grows more painful, and his brain grows more prone to anxiety and sorrow. But today, he squares his shoulders and joins his team in the morning (hah, ‘morning’), full of coffee and ready to search. 

“Morning, everyone,” he says.

Lup signs a good morning, pouring the last of the coffee pot into a thermos for the day's trek. She still hadn’t adjusted to the days here; the downside to only needing a four hour trance is that very little of the fifteen hour night is taken up by that. And with a mind that races the way hers does, she’s lucky to get that.

Starting briefings this year has been... rough, to say the least. No one’s quite sure who should lead, so there’s always a couple awkward minutes before they actually get started. Once everyone’s gathered this morning Lup takes it upon herself to address the crew. 

“Right, so everyone understands today’s objectives, yeah? Merle’s agreed to stay on board as the precaution; Magnus and Taako, you guys are taking the path you already scouted, yeah?”

"Yeah, we'll grab some more food on the way back in, too," Taako agrees. "Magnus is carrying it, though." Magnus rolls his eyes, but keeps his grin.

Barry stifles a yawn. Long nights don't mean long  _ sleep _ , he’s discovering. "I'm with you, around and past the grove, right?" he confirms. 

Lup nods, checking off areas on the map in her head. They’d never send someone off on their own, and someone’s got to stay aboard. Without a full crew, the number of duos gets cut short— just another reminder of their early loss. 

"Luce, you with us or the boys?" Barry asks, turning to Lucretia.

Lucretia nurses her morning tea, weighing her options. “I trust you and Barry to make proper notes, so... “ She looks tired and accusatory at the boys. “If you can do that, I’ll cover the boys.” Magnus smiles, always happy to have another friend along, and Taako sticks his tongue out. That’s settled then. 

“Alright, everyone. Try to be back by 1900, cast a Sending if anything goes wrong, or at any signs of the Light. Let’s make Dav proud, okay?” She nods, heaving a sigh. Time to start the day.

Barry walks over to Lup as the others head for the door. He shoots finger guns at Taako. 

"Do  _ not _ try, Barold," Taako throws over his shoulder with a laugh. Barry snorts. He's trying to keep his spirits up, but lately he's tired enough that he's veered into a sort of dorky, vaguely embarrassing type of humor.

"So, where're we headed, you're the boss," he says to Lup. He gives her a mock salute, then chuckles. "That's not better than the finger guns, huh?"

“Ohh  _ I’m _ the boss? Noted, noted.” She chuckles, shooting finger guns right back at him. “At ease, soldier. Let’s try to cross that river, see if we can’t find something other than those fucking Mega Persimmons.” 

She slings her pack over her shoulders, tucking her notepad in a breast pocket. Time to hit the road. 

Barry laughs. "What, did you think  _ I _ was the boss? Come now, really? This is no head for a crown," he teases. He picks up his own bag and trails after her out the door, catching up to walk abreast as soon as they're down the narrow gangplank.

\--

In daylight, this world is  _ incredible _ . In the faint light, everything is bathed in a cool, ethereal glow. Branches hang low, loosing glittering dewdrops on the ground and it’s explorers. It’s easy to feel dwarfed by the world around them, but just as easy is it to feel a part of some fantastical world.

"Maybe we can find some Mega Spinach, put it in a salad," Barry says as they approach the grove. He hears a rustling sound as they start to skirt the trees. Oh shit, hopefully who or whatever it is is friendly. He falls silent and nudges Lup's arm. " _ Something's moving there, _ " he signs, indicating a spot deeper in the trees. " _ Careful. _ "

Wide-eyed, she nods. They pause, silent at the tree-line for a moment, exchanging glances. Nothing moves for a long minute.

Lup sighs, straightens up to continue on, when a stampede breaks the tree line, charging out from the trees and back into them a dozen metres away. The beasts are massive, easily twenty-five feet, horse-shaped with antlers that could uproot a bush and hooves that could crush an elf with ease. Lup stumbles sidelong into Barry, clapping her hands over her mouth to stifle a swear.  _ What the absolute hell are those? _

As the herd of enormous—what even are they? Barry can’t tell 100%, but elk is both similar and a vast understatement—Barry feels Lup bump into him and for a moment he doesn’t think, he just  _ does. _ He wraps his arms around her and pivots, pulling them both behind the nearest big tree, tucking her between himself and the rough bark. He hunkers there against the tree, hoping they weren’t noticed. Those hooves could crush them easily, snap bones like twigs; those antlers could tear them apart.

Barry ducks his head and tries to hold still. He’s shaking, breath coming in gasps as he presses close to Lup until the creatures have passed. The bark of the tree digs into his hands where they cling, arms around her, broad back shielding her smaller frame.

The last of the herd disappear into the wood, an echo of their run reverberating through the clearing. The ground  _ shook _ ; Lup could still feel it in her bones. She's left pressed between Barry's chest and the trunk of a tree, terrified panting whistling through her fingers.

When it’s over, he can’t move immediately. He stands there, heart racing in his chest, feeling the shuddery pant of her breath. “ _ Fuck, _ ” he gasps, “are you okay? What  _ were _ those?”

It’s a little claustrophobic, being so surrounded, but she’d much rather be stuck between Barry and a hard place than out there with whatever the hell those were. Huge, beautiful,  _ terrifying _ creatures, the first real animal life they’d seen besides flashes of some bird or other. Under the fear, Lup can’t help but wonder if there’s more. What sort of massive beasts does this world host, and what fraction will they get to see?

She feels his words in her hair and blinks up, breathing through her fingers until she settles back into a sustainable rhythm. Bark digs into her back but she doesn’t dare move— the most she’s willing to risk is a few shaky signs. 

_ ”I’m fine. They gone?” _

He heaves another shaky breath and checks again. “ _ They’re gone, _ ” he confirms. He looks down into her face. Shit, he’ll squish her. He backs up a step, pulling his hands back.

“ _ Sorry for just grabbing you and crushing you there, _ ” he signs. “ _ That scared me good! _ ” He liked it, being so close, but he had just sort of dragged her into a tiny Barry cage without so much as a how-do-you-do, and it’s occurring to him now that it maybe wasn’t a fun experience for her, all things considered? He gives her an apologetic look.

She nods, relaxing a little. Trampling: avoided. Without the immediate threat of spooking several huge elk-like beasts, Lup finds her voice again. “It’s fine, it’s fine, thank you? I prefer this to being dust, so...” She chuckles, sounding more frazzled than cheery. “But like. Holy shit? Holy shit. Those... that was a lot. Gods, do you think there’s more? Is everything here that...  _ massive? _ ” 

It would make sense; with the sky-brushing trees and the Mega Persimmons, it wouldn’t be terribly out of place to host  _ giant fuck-off elk _ . “I wonder if we can get close enough to study them? Did you see those colours! Gods did we disrupt their habitat when we landed? With the food and the water we found... ahh beans...”

Barry chuckles. “Hopefully if we get any closer it’ll be with them  _ calm, _ ” he says. “I’ve seen houses smaller than those things—oh  _ fuck, _ I hope they’re herbivores.”

Barry takes a beat, then decides to go ahead and say the (ridiculous?) thing that’s occurred to him. “You know, all that was  _ a lot _ but like...did it seem like their eyes were just... _ excessive _ to you? Like  _ way _ too many _? _ ”

She nods, laughing off the stress and ridiculousness of it all. “Yeah! Just  _ so _ many? I mean it’s so dark here, maybe they’ve just evolved like that? But I don’t know why  _ more _ eyes is the answer. Maybe darkvision or something, that’s just... just like absolutely a ridiculous amount of eyes. Did you see the  _ lichen? _ Gods, the bioluminescence?  _ Beautiful. _ ” 

If only Lucretia were with them, she’d be able to sketch them impeccably. Lup takes out her pocket notebook; she’ll at least give Luce some decent notes to work from if the others don't run into these things first. Does this plane have  _ giant mongooses??? _ Further research is needed.

“Okay, I’m glad you saw it too, whew,” Barry laughed. “That would be a helluva thing to hallucinate, but life is  _ weird _ right now, so.” He pulls out his notebook too, and starts writing down details.

And then abruptly stops as he hears a sound. Oh,  _ fuck _ . He taps Lup’s arm. “ _ More, same direction, _ ” he signs.

Her hand stops mid-twelve-eyed-elk-sketch. Her eyes flick up, left, right— she doesn’t see anything.  _ ”Same? Sounds like same horned-animal?” _

Her back is getting intimately familiar with the trunk of this tree, she peeks over her shoulder, and through the leaves she sees movement. A rustle, something smaller but not by much. Whatever it is looks pale, faintly reflecting the low light of this plane's afternoon. Lup holds up a hand, slowly. 

_ ”Closer, smaller, light-coloured. Different.” _ Her lips make a tight line— if those elk had all those eyes, all that power in those hooves, what could these creatures possibly have?

Barry squints into the trees. She's right, these aren't the same, not by a longshot. For starters, they're bipedal, and the way they're moving through the trees seems intentional and precise to Barry, not a wild stampede like the bigger elk-like creatures.

They're  _ much _ closer, though, and that's the part of Lup's assessment that concerns Barry. One of them moves between the trees and Barry catches sight of--" _ Clothes? People? _ " he signs.

_ People _ . 

She turns wide-eyed to face the movement, cheek pressed up against rough bark. Barry's right, they're definitely wearing things. Moving more precisely, quieter probably. There's a pattern there, almost like... 

_ "Hunting!" _ Her signs bump Barry's chest when she turns back, so she reiterates, eyes off following her train of thought while her hands catch up.  _ "H-u-n-t-i-n-g. Hunting group! See-- They move slooow," _ She drags the sign up her arm, miming the deliberate pace. She can't make out weapons from here-- maybe trapping is more their style? But how in the worlds do you trap something that size...  _ "We should talk to them." _

_ We should talk to them? _ Okay, yes, that seems reasonable to Barry, but it also sounds nerve-wracking, as talking to people usually is. The implication that these folks are hunting the giant many-eyed elk creatures feels either threatening or hubristic, so there's that. She's absolutely right, though, they should try.

He nods. " _ We should go out there slow, if they're hunting they could be armed? I don't see anything, but... _ " he signs back.

She nods. Definitely slow, definitely cautious. She looks around for some sort of neutral ground, settling her attention on the space they came from just outside the tree line. A nice open space, less chance to surprise anyone. Her steps are careful as she backs up into the clearing. 

_ "Come on, let's be visible. Should we make noise? Do they even hear?" _ Making first contact would probably never get easy, but to say this was a new situation is a vast understatement. Talking diplomatically, getting arrested-- controlled situations were much more predictable. Attempting to not spook a group of foreign hunters  _ whilst also being first alien contact _ is... daunting. For the sake of the mission, thought, it must be done. 

Lup stands resolute in the group's path, anxiety hopefully masked by her alien features.  _ Keep your hands visible, no sudden moves, ohh gods this is so open please don't kill us.. _

Barry positions himself next to Lup in the clearing.  _ Try to look...well-meaning? Neighborly? _ The thought almost makes him burst into laughter.  _ Hi, I'm Barry and this is Lup, we're your neighbors from a few planes over, could we borrow some sugar? We're having a cookout next week. _ This is a ridiculous and fraught situation. What if they aren't friendly? How fast can they move? Do they have ranged weapons? If so, running may not make a huge difference. Do they speak Common? Oh, gods, they're  _ big. _

He clears his throat as the hunters approach. "Um, hello?"

The sounds of footfalls stop. There's soft sounds-- voices?-- before the branches part. The creatures are tall, easily head and shoulders and head again above even Barry. Their faces are hardly recognisable as such, nearly indiscernible to Lup's eyes; humans look soft in comparison to elves, but these people seemed polished featureless. Only when they turn their heads in what must be confusion can she make out the shadows of a flat nose, only when they murmur between themselves can she see the subtle movement of a mouth. 

Lup raises her hands, slowly, in what she hopes is a show of well-meaning. The closest creature tilts it's pale head, and slowly mimics the gesture. The rest-- no more than a half dozen-- look amongst themselves, and follow suit. 

"Hello. Do you mean harm?" The leader's voice is still soft, almost loud enough to hear and lips incapable of being read from this distance. Lup turns to Barry, eyes wide with concern and confusion.

Barry smiles, hands raised like the others, at the leader’s question. This is a solid start, being offered a chance to clarify that they don’t pose a threat right off. The hunters are unsettling; Barry’s not a short man but he’s looking up at them, and they’re lanky, too. It’s difficult to figure their attitude toward the two of them outside of tone. That, at least, seems promising.

He breathes a sigh of relief and angles toward Lup a bit with a look of reassurance. “No, we don’t mean any harm,” he answers, then pauses.  _ We’re here to learn _ is accurate, arguably so is  _ we’re here to help _ and  _ we’re refugees _ . “We’re strangers here, do you mean us harm?” he asks.

Lup can infer their question from his answer-- they're giving them a chance. She lets out a long held breath, giving Barry a nod.  _ Holy shit. _

The same creature ponders his question a moment. "We don't mean any harm. For the time being." Several of the creatures, she can now see, carry what must be weapons, strange contraptions of branch and string. They don't brandish the weapons so much as make them visible, but it's an unnerving motion regardless. 

"What should we call you? I'm Lup, this is Barry." She gestures, slowly, to him. "Would you mind if we come closer? I can't hear you well." It's simpler than explaining the process of interpreting, and way more considerate than asking that of Barry. Hopefully it doesn't cross any cultural boundaries. And with their soft-spoken nature and confusing features, hopefully it's enough.

The creature who seems to be the leader waves them forward. Barry approaches slowly, staying close to Lup. He’s not sure what ‘for the time being’ means to these folks.

The creature speaks again. “I am Brent, these are Devon, Jean, and Renate. Are you from the southwest? We’ve not yet met anyone from there.”

Barry shoots a look at Lup, checking in. Is it easier for her closer up? The cr— _ Brent _ is still pretty darn quiet, in Barry’s estimation. Also,  _ Brent? _ Maybe Barry’s made a handful of assumptions here, but he didn’t expect these names at all. He smiles again at Brent, they’re all friends here. “Pleasure to meet you all,” he says politely. He racks his brain, it’s hard to retain a sense of direction when it’s usually dark. “We kinda...came from east of here? I guess?”

She must not be hearing right--  _ Brent? _ But she watches Barry and yeah, that looks like a "Brent".  _ Buckwild _ . She gives Barry an incredulous look, but nods. 

"We're from... rather far. Are there more like you? Maybe someone in charge we should speak with? We are... new to the area, and we'd like to cooperate with your people if we can." 

Her first thought is to get in contact with Davenport, and she almost makes to cast a Sending before remembering the situation. Technically, Barry would be the next senior officer in terms of hire, but everyone worked in such specialised areas that it only really made sense for Captain Davenport to give orders-- everyone else sorta worked on par with each other. Chain of command hadn't really been discussed; there  _ was _ one, but no one ever thought they'd need to use it.

What Barry wouldn’t give for a quick huddle here, ideally with all seven of them together and Davenport to make a call. Should they mention the Light? Or would it be better to gain their trust first? That’s maybe not a conversation to have during a chance encounter with a hunting party in the woods, too many factors. That’s more of a sit-down or audience situation. He nods in agreement. “We appreciate your graciousness,” he adds.

Brent nods as well. “I can speak with Leanna; I’m sure she’ll want to meet you. Are there more in your party?”

_ Leanna. Huh. Was not expecting these names. _ "Not with us, but yes. Sev... six. Six of us in all. Would you mind if I let them know we'll be coming with you? So they don't worry." She patiently waits for confirmation before casting a Sending to Taako. They do not need people confused and threatened by her magic; if total transparency keeps everyone calm, that's what Lup will do. 

"Of course. Please, come with us." Brent motions for them to follow, while the others hang back to walk behind them. Lup doesn't blame them for their caution. If Tüson had been contacted by strange alien beings, in all honesty they might not have been as forthcoming. 

She thanks them, following with a hand pressed to her ear. " _ Taako? We've made first contact; en route to audience with an authority. I'll keep ya posted. Stay safe just in case. And don't you dare start the tostones without me. _ " She turns to Barry with a smile. However nerve-wracking, they  _ have _ made first contact. They deserve to be excited.

Barry smiles back. He’s thrilled that they’ve made contact, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. These folks seem peaceful, cautious but understandably so. But still, there are some big unknowns here.

Though there’s still some light, Barry slips his hand to rest at the crook of Lup’s elbow, loose and ready to adjust as needed. After some experimentation, they’ve worked out that this is more comfortable than his hand on her shoulder. It’s easier for him to stay within an area she can vet for obstacles, and it’s a less tiring position for his arm to maintain long-term. She’s led him all over the place after dark. He still feels spikes of fear, but she’s patient with him, waiting or reassuring or describing things as needed until he’s calm enough to go forward. He hopes she won’t mind this now, even as it communicates not  _ I can’t see _ but  _ I’m anxious _ .

“Maybe uh, maybe they’ll have that marketplace, huh?” he jokes nervously.

In the fading daylight, his hand on her arm is unexpected, but not unwelcome. She raises an eyebrow towards him, expression softening at the anxiety plain on his face. He's not alone in that. "Yeah, maybe." 

"I am not familiar with  _ marketplace _ . What does this mean?" One of the others, Lup thinks Renate, but it's hard to keep them straight. They wear similar clothes-- faintly luminescent fabrics and iridescent furs-- but this speaker has a woven accessory like a bracelet on each arm.  _ Maybe it's a status thing? _ Lup wonders,  _ Something about gender or social class or something? _

Barry starts a little. “Uh, a marketplace is like, where you can do business? Or trade things with each other? I don’t really know how y’all manage resources here,” he replies. Who knows, they may have one and call it something else, or have a society without the concept of sale, like common ownership or something.

Renate seems to consider this, then nods. “Marketplace,” they try out the word. “This must mean Apportionment. This is where each brings their work to ensure that we all have what we need but cannot produce ourselves.”

Huh. Okay, that could be a kind of marketplace, yeah. It sounds like a good one, with a pretty healthy concept? “Yeah, that sounds about right,” Barry answers. He relaxes a little and turns to Lup. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to check it out.”

"If you do mean no harm, perhaps. Do you have something to share?" Brent leads the group through the trees, seemingly following a path, though Lup can't see anything distinguishing. When the trees break, it's into a wide clearing dotted with buildings thrice as high as her. They're organic, made of the same wood making up the trees stretching above and beyond. And milling about are dozens of the same ethereal beings. Some wear woven things like Renate, long furs like Brent-- all have the same lanky figures, the same pale, indiscernible features. 

Barry nearly laughs. So they  _ will _ have to get alien jobs, after all. “We’ll do our best to come up with something,” he answers.

Jean—Barry thinks that’s Jean, he’s pretty sure—takes the lead in showing them what appears to be a small village, just scaled way up compared to what Barry’s familiar with. It strikes him how interesting that is: these beings have a society that, even as it’s unlike Tüson, still has so many things in common. Houses, trade, collaboration: it’s home for Brent and the rest, and it’s not so different, really.

"Welcome. I will speak with Leanna. Please, keep close to my party until I return. You may show them Apportionment, so long as they remain amenable." Brent faces each of the group, possibly some unseen salute or other, before retreating into one of the buildings. 

Their group garners some attention, surely, albeit hard to really tell. Some people, for lack of a different word, turn as they pass by, murmuring among themselves. They don't seem to mind, but to be fair they don't seem to do much. Over the course of the year, Lup resolves to understand their way of expression better.

Though it’s difficult for him to parse the inhabitants’ attitudes toward the two of them either, without understanding their facial expressions, Barry thinks their body language looks pretty friendly, and he tries to keep his relaxed and friendly, too—maybe that’s just as important here as facial features would be to him? He’s not sure.

He nudges Lup. “We’re gonna have to boost each other up and bring in some fruit, looks like, earn our keep a little,” he says lightly.

She laughs, nodding. "Yeah, guess we are, huh? Could be useful to trade though. Think ya can still lift me?" 

“Pffft, of course I can, like a  _ feather, _ I’ll just scoop you right up like it’s  _ nothing, _ ” he teases. He flexes his free arm jokingly. “I don’t know if you‘ve noticed, Lup, but I’m a sturdy lad,” he continues with a little wink.

Lup snorts, giving him a playful shove. She's not  _ that _ small, but he is a sturdy guy. That wink warrants a comeback, but nothing she can think to retort with is suited for polite company. To be goofed, then. 

Renate turned to them, her expression hard to read, but positive, Barry thinks. "Have you two been mated since youth?" she asks. 

"Have we--wait no, we're not, like, together, we're coworkers--" Barry fumbles, blush creeping up his neck.

"Together?.." Lup raises a brow, puzzling together the question. " _ Oh _ . Yeah, no, we're not. That would be… no we just work together, uhh..." She laughs through a tense smile.    
Renate, however, seems unfazed. A little confused, but nothing more. "Hmm. My mistake. Sorry." 

The market-- Apportionment, right-- is large, literally. Not sprawling by any means, something more akin to a local farmer's market than the market of an entire settlement, but literally  _ big _ . Stalls who's surfaces fall above their heads, who's roofs Lup can't see the top of. She can only just make out the texture of woven baskets on the stalls, no doubt filled with food and supplies for the taking. Or trading? Unclear. 

"So, how do you determine who gets what? Is it trade, or... based on need? Is that a rude question?" She knows it'd probably be smarter to ask questions in a more diplomatic setting, but she can't help her curiosity. Some things are best left for later, of course, but a few trivial questions hopefully wouldn't hurt.

Barry looks around at the enormous market stalls and tunes into Devon’s explanation. “Each of us has something we do that benefits us all. Some of us hunt, some gather food, some grow it, some govern or heal or tend children. Each of us comes here with what they offer, and we divide what we have so that we all reap the benefits. There are some tasked with measure and fairness, but cooperation and peace is the norm,” Devon says. 

Barry can see transactions being made in the stalls, without the intermediary of currency. It seems nice, really it’s a barter system on a small enough scale and with enough trust and plenty that money seems wholly unnecessary.

“Is there a way to store excess value? Extra food against hard seasons, for example, is that handled communally?” he asks.

"Of course, the storage and maintenance of resources is handled by those given the appropriate tasks. There are tasks for all, and each has their task. So is the way of the world." Devon says it with such nonchalance that it's hard not to take it as fact. When people share what they have, a world is bound to run smoothly. The only hard part is getting people sharing, but it seems like not even that was a problem here. 

A few minutes into their economics lesson, Brent returns, flanked by a smaller figure. This new face is still a head above Lup, and more accessorised than the hunting party. They wear woven things similar to Renate, though not the same sort of wristlets, and seem devoid of any of the furs the hunters wear.  _ Interesting... _ Lup ponders if it might be rude to ask what meaning these different items hold.

Barry turns. This must be Leanna, at least he assumes so. It might be best to let her speak first, just in case that’s important. He really doesn’t know the etiquette here. For a science mission this sure is requiring a lot more diplomacy than he’d expected, and though it’s getting easier with practice, it wasn’t exactly the plan. He smiles politely.

“Hello and welcome, I am Leanna. I am the Resolver here. Brent tells me you come from the Far East?” she asks.

Far, yes, east, okay, arguably both of those things. Barry clears his throat and tries to think of what to say. “Um, yes, my name is Barry, and this is Lup. Thank you for your hospitality,” he answers.

Lup gives a little nod as she's introduced.  _ Should she bow? What's the procedure on this plane? _ No one else seems to be doing much in terms of salute, so hopefully they're not offending her. 

"Yes, thank you, Leanna. We, ahh, we've come a long way, so we apologise for any ahh, misunderstandings. We are interested in cooperation with your society, if possible. And we..." She gives Barry an uncertain look. Best to get it all on the table, right? "We come bearing a warning. Not a threat from our people, but... something we can help with."

Barry feels his heart kick at the look Lup gives him. This is it, make or break time. Hopefully Leanna will hear them out, maybe she'll even help them recover the Light? That would be best for this plane. He gives Lup an encouraging smile. He trusts her judgement, she's doing amazing under all this pressure, when Barry feels like he'll crack like an egg at any moment.

Leanna is quiet a long moment, looking over the group, then out onto the streets of her people. She nods, a single, curt motion. "Come with me. Brent, Renate, if you would accompany us. If there is a threat, your expertise may be warranted." Leanna leads the way for the five of them, Devon and Jean seemingly relieved of duty. The latter walks away with a buoyancy to their step, having been uncomfortably quiet during their entire interaction. Lup trots to keep up, pulling Barry with her. It didn't  _ seem _ like she'd upset them, but if the tides turn she wants him close.

Barry has to walk fast to keep up with them all as they head to a large building and Leanna leads them inside. She guides them to a main room with a long table with chairs pushed in and lining both sides. He has to climb up on the crossbar at the bottom to get seated, and Lup scrambles up into a chair next to him, both of their legs dangling, unable to reach the ground. 

Leanna sits at one end of the table, and Renate and Brent take their seats. "So tell me," Leanna begins, "What is this warning?"

Barry exchanges glances with Lup and clears his throat. Best to be upfront, probably. "We are looking for something called the Light of Creation. It's this sort of...ball of light, but you can touch it, and look at it. It's very powerful, and we need it to get home. Have you seen anything like that here?" he asks.

"I believe the word you were looking for is 'request', no?" Leanna seems to look between the two of them, confusion and a touch of relief in her tone. Lup hates to cut that relief short, but they owe it to each world they encounter to be upfront and honest. 

She has to sit up on her knees to properly see over the table and address Leanna, "This request is the only way we can offer help. There is something coming for this world; it has come for every world we've seen. It came for our world, years ago, and tried to consume it." She pauses, time for a heavy breath before continuing. "It succeeded. The only way we can keep it from consuming this world is by making sure that  _ we _ take the Light with us when it comes. If we can do that... I'm not going to lie, it will still come. But there's a chance of surviving." Lup can only hope that the grief on her face is understood. Not because it's for show, but because there's no other way she can think for these people to understand the gravity of their situation. "We've seen worlds lost, Leanna. We don't want to see yours lost, too."

If Davenport were here, maybe he'd know what to say. How to make this situation sound less fraught, less like something their crew brought to this world and more like something they could stop. Hopefully one day they can.

Leanna seems taken aback, though it’s hard for Barry to tell. Obviously that’s to be expected; even without experiencing what they have first-hand it still sounds unbelievably terrible. Or like an awful fever dream. Barry can see not just sincerity but pain on Lup’s face as she explains, and he can only hope Leanna understands that, too. This world doesn’t deserve this.  _ Tüson _ didn’t deserve this, none of the planes did. He bites back that wave of emotion, old now, and a constant companion but no weaker, and focuses on Leanna’s answer.

“I have not heard of this Light. I am sure if such a thing were found it would be brought to my attention, if it is as you describe. For now, though, you are welcome to come and go as you please and participate in our life here, provided that you contribute and remain friendly. Do I understand correctly that you are actively searching for this Light?” she asks.

Barry clears his throat. “Yes—“ he catches himself, not sure what honorific is appropriate in this society, and makes a mental note to see if he can’t find out what Leanna’s actual position is. She said Resolver, maybe something like a judge? He’s not especially clear on what sort of gender constructs are at play here, either, for that matter, probably should find that out too before he or one of the others upsets anyone. “—That’s right, we haven’t seen it yet either, but we’ll continue searching. It’s like Lup said, we want to give you the best chance at survival we can.”

She seems to understand, rising to her feet to address her peers. "On behalf of our people, thank you for your warning. Seeing as you cooperate with us, we will do our best to do the same. I would assume Brent and Renate would like a word; we do not have a dedication for..." She searches for a moment for the right words, "defense of human life, but they oversee our hunting dedications. If I am correct in understanding that we will be in need of self-defense, they may be best suited for the task. Teach them what you can of this predator."

"Uhh, yeah, of course. Our security officer might be better equipped to that end. We can... probably bring him tomorrow?" Lup is still reeling a bit-- did she say  _ human _ life? They're strongly in need of a debrief with their crew, and having Magnus's rustic hospitality and strategic mind along might not be an awful idea. 

Brent and Renate don't seem to object to this plan, and so neither does Leanna. "Then we will reconvene tomorrow. Will you be needing living spaces?" The other two rise, and Leanna gives another of her curt nods before they make to exit.

Barry exchanges glances with Lup. “I’d like to discuss that with the rest of our party first, but if it’s not too much trouble. Can we answer you on that tomorrow?” he says. The idea of living anywhere stable that’s not the ship after so long is appealing, but they’ll still need to weigh the risks, and keep track of how close they are to the end of the year. Maybe they should move the ship? Possibilities.

Leanna nods once more. “That is understandable. We will discuss it further then,” she agrees.

Barry hops down from the large chair and turns to Lup to offer a hand if she needs it. “Thank you,” he says simply.

Lup jumps down with a wink only Barry can see. She turns to give a nod to Leanna, hopefully that's a chill form of address? Acknowledgement? Something? "Perfect. When we return, should we just meet you here? What's the appropriate way to reach you?" 

"I will ask that someone be dedicated to receive you at the southern end of our city. They will know to escort you." Leanna holds the large door for them, and shows them to the edge of the city. "You came from the east, yes? This should be the direction you came. Thank you again for your warning, I appreciate your help." Then she heads back the way they'd come, the weight of her civilisation the only recognisable feature.

Barry slips his hand into the crook of Lup’s elbow as they step outside. The light had already been fading when they arrived, and it’s only grown darker during their stay. They say their goodbyes to Leanna at the gate and start off in the direction of the ship.

After a few moments, Barry chuckles. “Wonder if we’ll ever stop having to pretend to know what we’re doing diplomatically? Like man, just  _ once, _ ” he jokes. “Maybe next year we’ll find some folks and just blend in without anyone noticing, just easy, you know?”

"Gods, if only." She reaches out to knock on the trunk of a tree, and shortly after realises Barry couldn't have seen it. "Uhh, knock on wood and all that." She casts a quick Sending to Taako, letting the crew know to expect them back sooner rather than later. Taako relays that Magnus says that they're all gonna watch Charlie's Aasimar in a few so they should, quote, “hurry their nerd butts home”, end quote. 

They do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Just look at these two, working together, facing challenges, melting my heart, etc. Lucky they've found some friends on this plane!
> 
> SA: They're trying so hard and doing pretty dang well! Hope y'all enjoy this little world we've made in a bit more light, it was such a rewarding thing to create!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say confession is good for the soul.
> 
> Well.
> 
> This sure is something...

It has been a solid three weeks since the IPRE landed on Dusk. That's, of course, not what the  _ locals _ call the planet, but to be fair they literally call it "planet", and themselves "people", so. The crew has had to get a little creative in their distinction. 

It has been a solid three weeks since the IPRE landed on Dusk, and no one has seen the Light of Creation fall. 

As far as the crew knows, the light is late. Or fell on the other side of the planet. Or maybe this is it, the final plane of their journey and they'd outrun the Hunger. Lup and Barry have slowly introduced the remaining crew to the locals, and none have made mention of finding the Light. And Lup is getting nervous. 

She knocks at Barry's room early on the morning of the twenty-third day of the fifth plane of their mission with two mugs of coffee and an anxiously flicking tail. When he answers, she slides into the room before speaking. "I think we need to tell the others."

She’s right. Barry sighs as he accepts the mug from her and moves to close the door, eyes flicking to her face, ready to leave the door ajar if she’s uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll tell them, it wasn’t your fault, I was the one—I’ll take responsibility. But they do need to know, we need to stop looking  _ up _ and start searching the ground.”

Barry feels sick. It was his responsibility, he was on watch and there’s no excuse, it was his fault. His mind has been doing a pretty thorough job of reminding him of that, pretty much constantly. The best thing to do is fess up, no sense endangering everyone over his guilt.

He takes a long sip of his coffee and offers her a nervous smile. “How about before we head out there today?”

She leans against the wall, lips pressed in a tight line, hands cupped around her mug. They need to come clean but. But it wasn't just his fault. She'd been a part of it. She'd made a commitment, and she hadn't followed through. It wasn't anyone’s intent, but if it was anyone's fault, it was hers. 

"Barry, no. No way are you taking the blame alone. We messed up, but like...  _ we _ did, y'know?" There's a tension rising in her shoulders. She'd hoped it wouldn't matter, the Light would just fall later and no one would have to know she messed up. But of course that was too much to ask; mistakes had consequences, and these were hers. At least Davenport wasn't here to be disappointed. 

Her head falls back against the wall with a sigh. "Yeah, over breakfast? Ko's makin' that quiche, can't be  _ that _ mad over quiche, right?" She laughs, but it's hollow, dreading the conversation. Best to get it over with, but at what cost to her nerves...

Barry sighs again. If there's one thing he's learned over the past few years, it's that it's neither possible nor worth it to try to talk Lup out of anything she's made up her mind about. And here she is now, mind made up to stand by him. He's still not convinced it was her fault at all, though. That's his weight to bear, no one will be more mad at him than himself.

He tries for a chuckle, anything to break the tension. "Egg pie heals all wounds, I suppose. At least let's hope so? And maybe it'll be okay, maybe we'll just...find it quick...?"

"Yeah, yeah, just uhh... scoot on over somewhere and just... pick it up. Gods, there's gotta be some way to  _ track _ it.. But uhh, one thing at a time. And right now's time to get our asses chewed." She hip-checks the button for the door, heaving a sigh and padding out into the hallway. 

Everyone's gathered at the table, chattering about this and that and  _ Magnus taking all the hot water again _ . The two latecomers slide into their seats. Taako, man of the hour, sets a steaming pan on the table with a look that says  _ Finally _ . It's quite an apropos image, what with his classic cooking attire-- one Kiss the Chef apron that someone  Lucretia has embroidered to say "please gods do not" across the top. He dishes out breakfast, and Lup waits until everyone is happily digging in to shoot Barry a nervous look. "Hey, so uhh..." She speaks into her coffee, as if it might save her from the fate of her crew's disappointment. "We should maybe start looking ground-ward for the Light..."

"Why, did it fall last night? Did you get a location?" Magnus asks.

Barry grimaces. "Not exactly," he begins awkwardly. "A couple nights ago...guys, I dozed off for a bit there, I think it fell then. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." There, that wasn't so hard. Yeah, it was, Barry feels like he's gonna melt into the floor.

She shoots Barry a look; so much for not taking the fall alone. There's a beat, and Taako looks like he's about to jump in with some snide something or other, and Lup cannot let him go down alone. "Y'all, it's my fault. I was supposed to be the failsafe and I borked that. But we can fix it-- we can find this thing. We're gonna go talk to the city, make sure we didn't miss anything there. And if they haven't seen anything... I'll go scouting. We'll find it. I promise." Her brow's all worried, tail tucked between her legs. Even if she has to go alone, she's made it her business to right this. 

There's metaphorical crickets while the news settles. Taako's still visibly annoyed, Magnus and Lucretia look more shocked than anything. Without a true authority figure, no one's quite sure how to react. They're upset of course, visibly so, but when no one takes the lead on dressing them down, the situation simmers into uncomfortable silence. Lup would rather take the yelling.

Barry, too.

But this? Silence? This sucks and it's uncomfortable and it's bad. Barry knew Lup would own up, too, but he truly didn't have it in him to put her on blast. When he'd seen her eyes droop that night...he told himself it was fine, he'd let her catch a few minutes' rest, gods knew she needed it. And when she'd settled in next to him so peacefully, he told himself that it was fine, because it was safe, he was looking out, and nothing would hurt her. And then when  _ his _ eyes had become heavy...it was fine, he just never did sleep, not properly, and he was so tired and it was  _ safe _ and  _ peaceful _ here next to her...

"It's...we both did fall asleep. That's true. We'll find the Light though, we have to, and we need to know to search the ground now that we know. I promise you, I'll do everything I can to find it," he says.

Merle speaks up first, the only one that hadn't basically dropped their fork in shock. "Damn right. This place's got mega-flora and fauna out the wazoo. No way Planet Vore's takin' her down." Taako faux-voms, and a palpable weight is lifted. They're not out of the woods, in literally any sense of the phrase, but they are determined to get there. So they will. 

Breakfast passes, albeit quieter than usual. The scouting parties take off for the day, armed with the knowledge that the Light is out there, somewhere, waiting for them. Lup packs an overnight bag, basically extra underwear and instant coffee-- if they can't find this thing in the city, she's not wasting time coming back ship-ward. Before the sun's even fully up, she's bouncing on her heels at the base of the gangplank, stretching her legs for the walk ahead of them.

Barry walks down the gangplank to join Lup. He’s looking kinda weighed down, mistakes are always hard to shake off for him but something about this cycle has made that worse. He slouches a little more than usual; his body feels simultaneously worn thin and like an unbearably heavy blob ready to shake to pieces at a moment’s notice. 

His own brain’s gotten in on the action, too, randomly supplying him with helpful comments about how hopeless the situation is and how powerless he is to do anything about it and how anything he does try will end in disaster. So that’s fun.

Barry wishes his brain would shut up. It’s drowned out a little when he works with the others, but he also feels bad inflicting himself on them like that. He can’t possibly be good company in this state, all irritable and ready to snap or breakdown any second.

But for now, which is really the only timeframe he can deal with, he meets Lup at the bottom of the gangplank as the light starts to reflect off his glasses and play in her hair. “Alright, let’s find this thing, huh?” he says, with an attempt at determination.

She leads off, anxious to get this day under way. It's become so casual to find Barry's arm looped with hers that not feeling that familiar weight only adds to the tension she carries. It'd been there for days, settling like a fog while they kept their secret in the hopes that maybe it wouldn't matter. Now that it's out, that she'd seen the fear and disappointment in her friends faces, directed at her... it settles like a stone in her gut.

They're both upset, and within reason too, but even as much as she understands the guilt on his face she can't bear to let it go unchecked. "We're gonna find it, Barry. We've done it before, when we didn't even know what it meant. I'm not stopping 'til we do." She owes it to him, to keep him from holding that guilt she knows he'll take for himself. And if she says it enough, maybe she'll believe it too. "We're gonna find it, easy-peasy and... and we're all gonna laugh about how we worried ourselves. And then we're gonna learn what the hell these people put in that curry because  _ damn _ ..."

Maybe if she says it, it'll come true. Maybe if she rambles long enough she can distract herself from the feeling of that stone lodging itself deep in her core.

Barry can almost believe that she's right, that they'll find the Light in like, five minutes and be back before lunch. Everyone will forgive them, nothing bad will happen, they'll have some breakthrough and get home, even. He forces a chuckle. "At least even I can see it in the dark, huh? It's plenty bright," he says. He tries to relax a little.

He'd give anything to hold her hand. Or for a hug. Any kind of reassurance, really. Or honestly if she'd just fall asleep again, when that's okay, and make him fall asleep too with the gentle rhythm of her breath--he can't finish his thought in the direction it's headed.

When they arrive, there are no creatures waiting for them. Their crew has come and gone enough in the past weeks that they've familiarised themselves with the city; which building Leanna works out of, which stalls have the best (and least spicy) foods. Certain locals even greet them, most with a verbal welcome, although some have adopted the Tüson custom of waving. The two find Leanna hard at work mediating a dispute that might be over a dedication change? Lup can't quite tell from the snippets of conversation they get outside the doorway. As far as civil disputes go on this plane, it's one of the more involved. Which is to say, not very.

They wait outside the door until Leanna's free. "Hello, Lup and Barry. How may I help you?" she asks.

Barry clears his throat. Leanna seems to flinch slightly. Barry makes a mental note to find out whether he's offended her or whether it's just unfamiliar. "We, uh, we thought we'd check to see whether anyone had mentioned seeing the Light. We're still searching," he says.

It's the same song and dance as every other day thus far, and it drives Lup  _ up the fucking wall _ . Leanna greets them, calm as ever, just as calm as the many expressionless faces lining the room. They've gone through the routine a dozen times, and now that the cat's out of the bag it's hard to not feel like  _ someone's _ in on the bit-- like one of these people is playing the shittiest game of keepaway from the naïve alien boner-squad and seeing how long they'll keep trying. If Taako were here to snarkily sign these things at her, she could easily brush it off as prideful self-preservation, urge him to chill out and remember the kindnesses they'd offered the crew. But guilt has a funny way of making Lup's jaw clench and her tail slash and Renate's faint eyes look just a little shifty.

She's practically beside herself when they step back out into the day. The usual suspects have gathered at the stalls, the crowds by now as used to seeing a couple of aliens in their midst as they can be. Lup picks up a few days rations, promising another round of cooking lessons to the kind face that brings the cured elk jerky, just as soon as she's back. The system works so flawlessly, the kind of trust extant in an entire society that worlds like Tüson could only dream of. It makes Lup sick to her stomach, knowing that her carelessness could cost this world everything. She pays for her fruits without a word, a smile all that's necessary. 

She doesn't pick up her usual fare, no cooking supplies for a large crew dinner, no massive plucked bird that would last them two days easy. Just what she can carry, easy items for a few days away. Her brow furrows; someone's going to have to pick rations up then. 

Still nothing, Barry frets. The Light's gotta be out there somewhere; if any of the folks here had found it surely Leanna would know. If only they had seen it fall, this would be easy, gods _ dam _ mit.

Lup is so tense, Barry can see it in every line and movement. He knows she blames herself just as much as he blames himself. That feels unfair; Barry wishes she never had to bear any of this weight. Nothing like this should touch her. She belongs in a safe place where the only dangerous stuff she does is for fun and by choice, not because she's fighting for her life. That also feels bad, and a little gross--she can handle herself and make her own decisions. What she does and her risk-tolerance isn't up to him. But. He still wants.

For now, he walks with her as she shops, trying not to fidget nervously. They have to find the Light, there's no other option, and the sooner the better if there's any hope of trying to stop this madness. 

"Hey, uhh, I don't think I'm... Somebody's--  _ I've _ gotta..." Lup takes a long hard breath. It's hard to find the words to say  _ I can't face my friends right now _ . "I've gotta try to find it. You don't have to, I won't ask you to, but..."

When Lup turns to him and says  _ that, _ Barry already knows what he's gonna do. He nods, slowly, swallows. "You couldn't keep me away. I'll go with you, hope you're down to drag this anxious lump around," he says, trying for a joke.

Lup knows she shouldn't feel better about him coming with; he shouldn't have to, and part of her feels even more guilt at the idea of dragging someone along on this quest to fix her mistake. She can't help it if the guilt feels a little lighter, though. 

The game poultry stallperson looks a bit disappointed at not chatting with them as they find their way west out of town, but Lup's already distracted plotting a course. "I'm thinking if we get to that clearing out this way, we might be able to get up a tree and get a look from there? See if anything's growing weirdly big-- well like, double-weirdly big. I uhh, I prepped a couple Flying casts, unless you wanna go tree climbing." She can smile at that, picture the two of them climbing a massive evergreen that'd take hours and hours to summit. Yeah, no way. 

Gods, what is she doing? Dragging Barry out here, on some shoddily planned recon mission, and for what? She's got a good head on her shoulders, she knows that if the People with their hunting parties and foragers and knowledge of the land couldn't find the Light, there's no way it's on this side of the planet. It's a futile mission and Lup  _ knows _ it, but she just can't not go. 

And Barry, sweet ‘yes-and’ Barry, is willing to make the trek too. 

Three days. She'll give herself three days to scout, no more. And if they haven't seen anything, she's bringing Barry back in one piece and taking her chances fighting Dav to take the ship--

Dammit.

Knowing that Lup is willing to go out after the Light is a weight off Barry's shoulders. There's no way he could go after it alone in the dark; he'd be lost and hurt and having a panic attack in nothing flat on his own. But the two of them together stand a chance, and that's currently their  _ only _ chance.

They might not find it. But they can damn sure try.

Barry sticks close as they head out toward the clearing. "Hmmm, yeah Flying's probably better than climbing," he says. "Hopefully it's just lying there. I don't wanna wrestle a giant elk thing.”

He glances at the sky. They've still got some light, but it won't last much longer. He steps a little closer to Lup. It'll be okay, even when it gets dark, she'll be here to guide him.

"If we could get that thing in the lab, I wonder if we could find a way to track it? There's gotta be a better way than this," he wonders aloud.

Light's fading out as they walk; by the time they lose sight of the village they're beginning to lose sight of most everything. The clearing sprawls out before them-- probably a decent place to make camp if anything. To be fair, if they only work during daylight they aren't going to get anywhere. She hates to put Barry through that, but he agreed, and they don't have much of a choice now. 

"You ever been before? Flying? I don't wanna assume, but you seem like more of the ground-type." She gives him a nudge, but leaves her elbow within reach. It's getting dim, and the anxious energy that's been driving her on is fizzling, and maybe a bit of grounding contact would do her good. He doesn't owe her that, doesn't owe her  _ anything _ , but if it's mutually beneficial? Can't hurt. 

As the light starts to fade, Barry feels the familiar clench. Soon there won't be any light at all. "I've been  _ once, _ ” he answers, catching her playful nudge. “As it turns out, Flying is really fun, but also? There  _ is _ a learning curve. I, uh, whatever I did I wound up going backwards? That was inconvenient," he laughs. "Like I got  _ up _ fine, but then, it was like hmmmmm. I'm sure it'll go better this time.”    
Her elbow's...just there, for the taking, and he's grateful. She doesn't even ask now, she's just learned what he needs and does it. He settles his hand there easily, with a comfort born of practice and trust. She won't leave him alone in the dark or walk him off a cliff. He usually can't tell what the score is in the dark, whether friends are close or enemies are or whether there's just no one, anywhere, but this way he knows. No matter who else is where, Lup is here, continuously; he can check again and again and again and she's always here.

She drops her bag at the base of a tree. It's impossible to tell which is the tallest, but if they're gonna Fly they can figure it out when they get up there. Her hip bag stays on, from which she plucks a pair of feathers. "You coming up? I've got Featherfall too, don't worry."

"Oh, absolutely! If I fuck up you can just bring me back to earth. You always do keep my feet on the ground," he teases.

Lup rolls her eyes, barely noticeable as they begin reflecting the fading light. "You're gettin' soft on me, Barold. Now if you'd be so kind," She hands him a feather, easily the length of his hand and an iridescent grey that plays off the moonlight. "Hold, please." 

She focuses on the feather still in her hand, muttering a string of Sylvan before crushing it to dust between her palms. It's a bit awkward to cast on herself, tapping out feather dust over her own shoulders. But she feels her heels pick up just so, and knows it'll hold. It's easier to repeat the words on the other feather, rounding behind Barry while he can hear her voice. Best not to spook someone just as you're giving them flight. 

Barry takes her elbow again as he feels her spell take hold. "Bold of you to assume I'm not always this soft," he chuckles.

She gives him a solid pat on the back, and feels his hand rest snug in her elbow. "Shall we?"

"Let's fly, I'm ready. Look for anything so bright and beautiful you can't help but chase it down."

"Pfft, you got it, B." It's oddly natural to push off the ground and not feel it rush up to meet her. Maybe in another life, in another world, she'd have been a bird. If she had the option though, could she ever keep herself on the ground?

They lift off, and the sensation of flying through the dim night is dizzying, but even in midair Barry is assured of Lup's presence. He strains his eyes into the darkness. Nothing bright. No beautiful glow.  _ Yet _ , Barry reminds himself. Maybe they'll have to go higher?

It's quickly apparent, once they're in the air, just how massive the trees are. Lup knows from experience and the branches whipping by that she's a bit of a speed demon in the air, and still it takes a solid half minute to summit the tree-line. From above, the forest loses the soft glow of the ground foliage, an expanse of sharp dark, rows and rows of matchstick pines as far as she can see with very few exceptions. None of which are a light in the dark. 

She has to lean into Barry's ear to speak, the altitude making wind an auditory nightmare. "We've got ten minutes, you want to go higher or out?"

"Let's try higher," he answers. He can barely hear her even so close. He points upward for good measure. She took them up  _ fast _ , and they're already so high, but it's fine. She has Featherfall, they'll make it back down safe.

He idly thinks back a moment. She had been prepared. For him. To come with her. She'd had confidence or at minimum hope that he'd want to come out here, too. It feels...good? A little vulnerable, that she knows him well enough to figure that out.

As they rise higher, Barry decides he likes it. He likes that she knows him that way, even though knowing that means she may eventually stumble on his Big Secret. He'd really rather she not know that he's never properly gotten over the crush he'd developed before they'd even left home. That would just be awkward.

He squints into the night. Still nothing. Shit, he was sure that the glow would be bright enough, is it too far away, or maybe under dense tree cover? No. No, that’s nothing.

It's getting well and properly dark, and they've got nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: These self-flagellating fools, I'll say it to both of them--you don't *have* to carry the whole thing, that's why you have each other!
> 
> SA: In which Barry has almost, *almost*, submitted to the horrifying ordeal of being known. Almost.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camping under the stars can bring you face to face with some scary stuff: the elements, wildlife, feelings.
> 
> Terrifying.

Lup flies higher and higher, until they're well above the highest trees, and still there's only the dark below, swaths of black and navy and nothing. There's only so much detail to be gotten at night, even with a boost of Fae lineage to help her, and none of it spells an end to their search. At least she's safe in the knowledge that this darkness doesn't stare back. 

Three minutes, five minutes, seven... She strains her reach and her eyes, and she'd keep going until the last seconds of magic sent her plummeting if not for the weight of Barry's arm through hers. Recklessness, she's done that-- Diving from the air with the full force of Flight and not Fall, free falling for just a moment before finishing the incantation that would set her down gently-- but all within practiced parameters, and only with her own life on the line. Lup would push her limits without a second thought for her team, but putting one of her crew's lives at risk in the process is where she draws a firm line. So she sinks down slow, guiding the two of them to a sturdy looking pine and latching onto the first branch she thinks will hold them before dropping concentration. 

"I don't think we're gonna find it here. We can cover more ground in the morning, try again? As much as I'm sure you'd love to spend all night in the air." She tries for a joking tone, but who's to say how it carries over the mile-high howl of wind. A third feather is pulled from her pouch while she debates if it's worth the energy to put up a Tiny Hut for the night.

Disappointment weighs Barry down as much as gravity does as Lup brings them back down. No sign of the Light. And Lup's right, they can try again in the morning. Except.

That means staying out here overnight.

Which Barry knew, obviously, intellectually, why bring supplies otherwise? Of course.

But boy oh boy, are his emotions catching up to that concept now. So they'll stay out here, in the dark, alone, together, with gods only know what else just watching them and waiting to pounce-- giant elk minimum, how about giant  _ predators? _ What even lives here?  _ They don't know! _

And another thing, out here alone, together? So she's gonna find out, then, she's gonna realize that he not only fears the dark during waking hours, but that he also wakes and tosses and turns and shudders and never does end up in any sort of deep, proper sleep. It's the hell situation, she'll be close enough to notice all that and yet far enough away that her presence won't soothe him. Right? Like, obviously she won't just curl up next to Barry or fucking  _ spoon _ him? Where did that idea even come from?

"Yeah, uh, we can keep going, I'm sure we'll find it then." He clears his throat. "Where, uh, how--do you see a good spot to camp for the night?" he asks nervously.

Lup's already dumping a few little beads from a vial, blinking around for a good spot to set up camp and talking more to herself than anything, "Yeah, deffo. I'll just put up a Tiny Hut, maybe closer to the trees, y'know? So nothing runs into it? No worries. Well, hmm... shit..." She'd been hoping on a real night's sleep, but with the relationship this plane had with nighttime, an eight-hour Hut wouldn't cut it. Okay, so she'll do two. "Yeah, no, it'll be fine." Just get in a solid trance, recast it when it falls, everything'll be chill. 

But what if she doesn't wake up in time, if she misses the fall of the Hut just like she did the Light... The casting nearly falters  _ twice  _ from sheer stress in the minute it takes to cast. She could trance early, ask Barry to rouse her, but that's another four hours they'd each be alone and bored. The air shimmers, rippling like water as the Hut rises around the two of them. Gods, she really doesn't trust herself enough tonight though, not when being wrong puts Barry in danger. 

"Hey uhh, would you mind... Is it cool if I get some meditation in before you head to bed? Just so I can be up for sure to reboot the spell. Don't want to risk it, y'know?" She pulls open her pack, offering her spoils from the market to Barry and picking out a roll for herself-- these folks really did make the best bread. She keeps the dome well-lit for now, a welcome reprieve from the night. "If you wanna sleep first, that's totally fine, no worries. I'll uhh, mess with the light for ya."

Barry feels better already. They have food, shelter, light. They’re together. It’s fine. He chews on a mouthful of fruit.

“That’s fine,” he answers. It sounds awful, lonely, but she’s tense and all but jittering, she needs to rest. He can treat it like keeping watch— _ yeah, that went well, huh, idiot? _ his brain reminds him. Okay, like keeping watch, but the  _ right _ way, the  _ awake _ way. This should be easy.

Feelings of some type he’s in no way ready to examine start to take shape around the concept of watching her during her trance. Whatever they are, they’re not particularly great centered on a coworker and seem vaguely creepy. He’s not gonna do...all that, whatever it is. He’ll watch out for giant elk or whatever’s out there, it’s fine. This is only awkward if he makes it awkward and he’s not gonna, problem solved. “I’ll, uh, stay over here and give you some space. You need, is it four hours?”

Give her space? That's not exactly a word she knows or likes, and the thought of him restricted in literally any way when he's already doing her a solid is... not great. "Don't worry about it, it's tiny anyways. Plus I grew up with Taako, personal space is a non-ish."

She tugs a sweater from her pack and folds it up under her. Taako's the lucky type that can trance just about any which way-- bed, couch, she's caught him on the kitchen counter catching some Zs while a loaf of bread was rising-- but Lup's curated her habits over the years. Sleep's easy,  ~~ as she'd proven, careless, ~~ but her trance is all carefully folding legs and tying up hair and rolling out shoulders. Practiced and routine. "Four should do, yeah; feel free to have at the food, whatever's in there's fair game. Just tap me if you need anything, mkay?"

Barry swallows and nods, trying to keep from staring. He just got through telling himself he wasn’t gonna make this awkward, but, this is...she’s  _ really hot? _ Seeing her get ready for her trance, pulling up her hair with  _ intent _ , exposing her  _ neck _ , the gentle stretch of strong, flexible muscles under skin.

He can feel a slight blush coming on. This isn’t  _ for _ him, it’s...intimate, in a way. But she’s allowed him to see it, and in a weird way just that permission is way hotter than if she was doing all this to be seen on purpose. If she was demonstrating or performing, maybe, it would be different. But she’s just  _ there _ , uncritically doing what she needs to do to care for herself, and Barry’s invited to be here too, and he’s  _ weak _ .

“I, uh, okay, uh—rest well, see you in four, uh, good night,” he fumbles.  _ Good job, buddy, you are an articulate man of the world _ , his brain supplies sarcastically.

She concentrates, wills the light in the dome a bit lower, less distracting. Good. It's not night like she's used to, but it'll do. "Night, B." 

"Night." As the light dims, Barry sits and tries to settle. There's still some light, it's not too dark, that's a comfort.

Lup's never really wondered about how she looks in a trance, never really had reason. She's either alone or with a brother that knows her better than she knows herself, no need to care about appearances. But now there's a new set of eyes, and maybe, definitely, she's overthinking it. Has Barry ever seen her trancing? Has Barry ever seen  _ anyone _ trancing? Does it look... weird to someone who doesn't do it? She fights to quiet those thoughts. If he thinks it's weird that's on him, right? Right. 

It takes several minutes for the tap of her tail to slow, but it does. Eventually.

Barry settles himself on the ground, looking out but with Lup in his peripheral vision. She sits motionless but for her tail, her breath in a quiet rhythm. She's incredible, she's a bright spot in this horrific place. As her tail stills, Barry realizes his mistake.

Because see, now he's thinking about the horrors beyond this Tiny Hut.

It's dark out there. What if they're sitting in the path of another stampede? What about the other cities, there's gotta be other cities, right? Brent implied as much, what if they're not as friendly? What if they range too far and get lost and never make it back to the ship?

Why can't he be calm and brave for like, two seconds? What flaw in his making makes him such a big fucking coward? Lup's sitting right there, calm as can be, unbothered, why can't he just do that?

He wants to go home.

He doesn't have a home.

Barry shifts, turning his back to Lup, and pulls his knees up. He holds as still as he can, but his attempts at deep breaths come out ragged as tears start to slip soundlessly down his face. He can't...he can't do this anymore, she won't notice, it's just for a minute and then he’ll pull himself together good as new, it's probably healthy or something. This whole world is a nightmare and Barry can't wake up from it. There's a really, extremely good possibility that they won't find the Light at all. This plane will be absorbed and then what?

Barry tries hard to calm himself, but the best he can do is to keep everything down to those horrible, quiet tears. This isn't Lup's problem, she has no obligation to deal with someone who should be a help to her dissolving into a crybaby liability. She's not his therapist or his mother, this is for  _ him _ to handle. His whole body wants to shake with sobs. He doesn't have the luxury. So he doesn't.

Something's off. Lup's mind is somewhere, half lucid, above and beyond her in ways Common doesn't have to describe, until she's pulled back, reverberently, to centre. She can... hear is the wrong word-- feel's not right either, but closer-- some soft sound. Repetitive, but not in a lulling way. She blinks back to her senses, a breath, and it's still there. 

_ Barry _ . 

He's turned away, looking at something? Is he saying something? She clears her throat so as to not spook him entirely when she speaks. "Barry? What, uhh, what time is it?"

_ Oh no. _

This is officially a nightmare within a nightmare. Barry freezes. He didn't mean to disturb her, but he did, somehow, and now she's caught him. He hurriedly wipes his face with his sleeve, oh  _ shit _ , he'll have to turn around to speak to her, or she won't catch what he's saying. He's never wanted to face her less in his life. Those beautiful eyes are gonna turn on him with...pity, at best, frustration or disgust or ridicule at worst.

He sniffs, draws a shaky breath, and turns. "It's, uh, it's only been, like--less than an hour, I think--an hour tops? Still plenty of time, sorry, didn't mean to dis-turb-- _ shit-- _ " he tries, breaking off into a ragged sob as fresh tears spill over. So much for that.

_ Oh no. _

Lup’s heart physically hurts. She's off her makeshift pillow in a second, caught between rushing to comfort him and holding back from crowding him. She settles at hopefully a middle ground, kneeling a foot or so away, shrinking into her shoulders. Does she hug him? She can't pretend not to notice, that ship has sailed, but she doesn't know that shape of Barry's grief, can't imagine that consoling him looks at all the same as consoling Taako or Mags or Luci. She has to try, though. Watching and waiting and hoping alone don't cut it for Lup. 

"It's okay, I-I'm... what can I do, what, what do you need?" She doesn't have anything but herself to offer. There's concern in her eyes as she puts a tentative hand on his arm. "Is this okay?"

Barry nods. Her hand on his arm is helping, but he can't stop crying. Dammit, dammit,  _ dammit _ . He tries again, pulling off his glasses and dashing away tears with the back of his sleeve. "I'll be--fine, I'll stop being dumb in a minute," he says.

He sniffs, then breaks into fresh sobs, these ones stronger than the stifled ones before. "I can't do this anymore, Lup," he manages.

No, no, no no. She takes his glasses, folding them and setting them carefully beside him. "Hey, hey, you're not being dumb. What's... is it the dark? We can go back, just.. say the word and we can leave." 

Gods, she is not equipped for this. Capable, possibly. Willing, definitely. But knowledgeable on Barry's particular needs? If only. 

She traces her thumb up and down his arm, something active and grounding usually helps her, so it's worth a shot? "Barry, I-I'm not upset, and I won't be, I promise. Tell me what you need,  _ please _ ."

"I--" Barry's not really sure what he needs. He's usually on the other side of this conversation.

He tries a deep breath. It tears apart into gasps. What helps? What would he offer? "I need--I can't do this? Can I hug? Fuck--" She's offering to help, she  _ will _ help, she's here and the gentle rubbing of her thumb is helping. Her hugs helped before, surely one will now.

"Yeah, of course," she smiles, wrapping him in a firm hug. Communication, hell yeah. It's hard, she  _ knows _ that. But he's trying and he's talking to her and that means something. 

"What can't you do, Barry?" Lup doesn't know how long he's been holding this, how long into her meditation all this started. She's broken down more times than she can count during this mission alone, she's full on  _ panicked _ a number of times. There's no hope of discerning between the two now, so prepare for the worst, hope for the best? She wants to pull back, to watch his words and store them so she'll know how to react another day. But for now she's probably close enough to feel his voice, and the prospect of letting go makes her chest hurt. So she doesn't let go.

Barry feels much better in the hug than out of it, that's for sure. Lup is warm, she's not soft, really, but firm, real, grounding. He tries to steady his breath; it's getting easier, though he's still crying.

"I can't...I can't keep, I don't know. I keep trying to go forward, but I miss home and it's  _ gone. _ My  _ mom's _ gone, she's...she's part of it now, like Magnus was? I guess? And if I do shit like this, it--then all of you will be more upset, and what if we all are and no one's thinking straight, and that's  _ it _ , and--and then it's dark and I'm terrified all the time now. I hate this place so much, sometimes I just...what if we just went back to the ship and just said fuck them? Just took off as soon as we can, I know that's fucked and I shouldn't say it, but at least it's light there and we have each other?" Barry's words spill over each other, and even as he hates the sound of them and knows that some of them are downright ugly, he feels better with them tearing out of him than with them locked tightly inside. He holds Lup tight. She hasn't recoiled yet, that's a comfort.

Gods _ dammit _ , he's talking too fast, getting mumbled and muttered as he goes. She hates to pull back, but what he's saying is  _ important _ , so she does, just enough to flick her eyes down and watch, intrepid hands settling around his shoulders to try and feel his words. 

"No, no, Barry we... we  _ can't _ . You... I can take you back, that's okay, that's- that's fine, but." She looses a heavy sigh,  _ don't make him feel guilty, that's not the point at all. _ "I know it's gone. It's gone, and there's nothing we can do about it but try to keep these people from feeling the same grief. We couldn't have known and- and it  _ sucks _ anyways, but we have to try. And- and maybe this plane, maybe I-I try for you. And when there's one that..."  _ Don't make it about you, that's not the point _ "When there's one that's too wrong for someone else, maybe you try for them, okay?"

If this were Taako, she'd run her hands through his hair and purr something calm. If it were Lucretia, she'd hold her hands steady and squeeze, a familiar pattern in time with her breath. But this is Barry, and she doesn't know what he needs any more than she knows where the Light is. Maybe she's talking too much, maybe she's  _ saying _ too much, but she can't do  _ nothing _ for him. So she folds him back into that hug, signing slowly against his back with her words. 

"We have each other. We have... pieces of home. I'm  _ sorry _ ..." Her voice quiets, but her hand continues its path on his back, a circling fist, fading to slow palm, face pressed to his shoulder.

_ Keep them from feeling the same grief _ . Okay...okay, yeah. Lup's words don't end Barry's grief, but they do give him a focus. He can't just run away without trying everything he can to make sure this plane survives. He can work with that, at least he thinks so. His body still shudders, but weaker and weaker now.

He can feel her signing, feel her hand rubbing gentle and firm on his back, just below where all the tension lives, where his neck meets his back. He starts to relax. It's not that there's no need to be afraid. There very, very much is. But Barry somehow believes that there's reason to be less afraid. And the feeling he has now, with Lup's arms around him, rubbing circles on his back, reminds him of something that to some people might seem strange.

It reminds him of his couch.

When Barry had moved from his small hometown, out from under his mother's watchful eye and plentiful cooking and firm reassurance, to go to school, he'd lived at first in student housing. As he studied and added letters behind his name and degrees on his wall, he'd gotten a modest apartment, and at first he'd been content with a few secondhand chairs. But when he'd put by a bit of money, he'd bought a couch. Nothing fancy or large, just a place to rest himself after long days of cajoling the universe into giving up the secrets of life and death. He'd come home each night and rest there, watch TV, read, study, grade papers. He'd fallen asleep on that couch more times than he could count. His ass had worn a dent into his favorite cushion (nearest the side table on the right, the better to keep pens and remotes and drinks handy). The dent was made for Barry, by Barry, cradling his form exactly. It was where he belonged. It was his home.

And now, Lup's arms wrapped around him, sensitive to his needs, holding him firmly and unwilling to let him spiral on his own, cradle him the same way. He thought he didn't have a home anymore, but he abruptly realizes that's not true.

Lup is home.

And Barry's in love with her.

Lup can finally breathe again when she feels his breaths slow. Good, that's good. There's no room for panic on this plane. She keeps him there until she's absolutely sure, or just short of absolutely, that he'll keep that pace. Her own eyes are damp; even as she breathes through tight lips; even as she tries to hold back the flood gates, there are still waves that roll over the edge. 

There's not much to say, what she's already said already feels like too much echoing in the small space of her mind. Her hands stay at his sides, not to smother him but less so to let go. But as much as her words ring with her ears the silence is just as suffocating. Why is it in times like these that nothing can feel  _ right _ ? 

"Do... do you want to talk about it? Get some sleep? Want me to... uhh, stop talking?"

"No, I, uh," he fumbles. "I like it when you talk? It helps, it helps when we're out there too." He gestures vaguely toward  _ outside _ . "You always make things sound so beautiful, and then when I see them in the daylight, they kinda just look beautiful then, too, I don't know." He sniffs a little, then rubs his sleeve across his eyes again and reaches for his glasses. He takes a long, shuddery breath, one that almost reaches the bottom of his lungs this time. He might be okay? Maybe soon even?

"I don't think I can sleep yet, but this is better. Probably that was way overdue," he admits.

Lup briefly wonders how well human eyes can pick up colour in the dim lighting of the dome. Her ears still hang low, but more... embarrassed than scared. "It really is beautiful. I mean, everywhere we've been, it's... so much life that we never thought about." She shakes her head,  _ rambling again _ . "These places just deserve love. Y'know?" It feels silly to say aloud, but also long overdue. 

And yeah, she's made a point to narrate the dark; just like when Taako signs interpretations for her. It just makes sense to do. She hasn't been intentionally sugar-coating things, but most things they come across deserve to be shown in the best light they can be. And if Barry has no reason to fear the dark, she refuses to give him reason to. 

Barry smiles shakily. "That's just--it's really nice. Like it's wild that these things are totally normal but they're foreign to us, or like just a little bit off what we'd expect. It's--the universe is a wild place, and we really only know a little about it. There's so much out there." He pauses. "Some of it sucks, but, some of it's real good. The Mega Persimmons are pretty cool."

She straight up snorts, covering her face for just a moment to get back her composure. "Yeah, the... the persimmons are pretty chill."

"Are you... is there something else I can do? I'm game to listen. Well,  _ watch _ ." She smiles, something small to break the tension. "I'm not really, y'know... I don't know what takes your mind off things, if that's what you want... "

He hesitates before asking a question he's wondered about for a while now. "How do you stay this strong? You're--I mean, well, you're amazing."

She laughs, but her eyebrows furrow, because why would he say that? Lup knows her strength, knows she can kick an ass and take a name from the best of 'em, but. Okay, yeah, she's put up with a lot of shit from the world  ~~ worlds ~~ but she  _ had _ to. They all did. 

"I'm... not? Barry if you think cha'girl hasn't cried on that spaceship, you're losing your edge. I... " She wants to roll her eyes, but there's a time and a place. "We're all just as fucked as the next one. 'S what keeps ya real."

"I mean, I know. We all kinda break down periodically, I guess tonight’s my night? But like, you're...I don't know, it's like even with that you always end up walking down the gangplank and doing what needs doing next. Every time. I literally can't imagine you giving up," he says.

Maybe he's getting sappy or idealistic now that he's in love with her and all, but Barry thinks she probably deserves to know? Everyone should know when they've done well.

She has to laugh, if only as an excuse to bow her head and hide a blush. She tries and fails and tries again to think of the words to say to refute that but. There's some truth to it. Giving up just. Isn't in her blood. 

And it's then she realises why. "I.. think..."  _ Sigh. _ "I think staying in one place is... the scariest thing." She can't look him in the eyes, she's never verbalised it before maybe because she didn't put it in words in her head until now. "I.. can't imagine that? It-- it's like, what's the-- claustrophobia? But..." She taps her fingers, searching for a way to explain that she feels it too. The crushing weight of everything following them, no way to escape but  _ through _ . "If I go  _ through _ it, I can always  _ get _ .. through."

She's rambling again, always has a way of talking more than she means, and her hand's still on his knee-- she pulls it back, biting her thumb. Maybe the excuse of talking with her hands will cover the gesture? Probably not. "None of us are stronger, we just... we break in different ways."

"Maybe..."  _ careful, Barry, _ he warns himself. "Maybe one of these days, we'll find a new plane and we can stay there? But we could like, maybe we could have houses and the whole bit, but we could go on adventures and stuff there and not have to worry about the whole, you know, threat of total destruction. We could just... _ live, _ that sounds stupid but wouldn't you just like to be able to  _ live? _ "

Houses, plural. For now. Adventures, plural, many in a row, or separate. But Barry might one day dare to let himself dream about house, singular, one for them both. And adventures, joint ones, pleasure trips and curiosity.

For now it's time to absolutely not tell her he's in love, not until the time is right. When they can talk properly and his eyes aren't already itching from salt. One day.

"Yeah," she almost breathes. She can imagine it, if she lets herself, a little something in a city, surrounded by life and light and--

No. If she lets herself think on it she'll slip down that rabbit-hole and then it'll be her sobbing around her words and she can't do that now. Someday,  _ maybe _ , they can stop running. But that's a huge maybe. They've got the responsibility of at least five worlds to carry, and if she sets that down it'll be that much harder to pick back up. 

"We're here now. We can live now. Maybe not... a house and, and a job, but... I mean we  _ do _ have a job. Keeping them safe. As safe as we can. Until we can get home. Or... find a home... or..." Lup wipes at her eyes and finds her hand comes back damp.  _ Fuck _ . "I don't know. But we've got to keep going. Right?"

Barry sees her eyes go misty. He reaches out and gently rubs her shoulder. This he can do, he can give comfort all day and night, it's just so much harder to know how to receive it.

"Okay. We gotta--fuck, we gotta find the Light and then we gotta pick some more fruit and bring it to Apportionment. We gotta study the shit out of the Light, and then go moonlight at our alien night job as persimmon pickers. Fucking awesome," Barry chuckles a little, the sound made slightly wild by his relief. "And then Leanna and Brent and all the others will be fine, they can hide and wait it out. And Davenport will come back."

It'll be fine. They'll wake up in the morning and it'll feel like all this was a dream.

She laughs, and it sounds like a sob. "And we're gonna get our asses handed to us when he does." Gods, they deserve it though. At least for scaring the shit out of everyone, and mostly for... 

Nope. Everything's going to be  _ fine _ . They'll be alright. They'll survive the night, and the month, and then some, and they'll be alright. She puts a hand on his, over her shoulder, nods. They'll be alright. 

"We're pretty damn good persimmon pickers, though, huh? Once we uhh, once we find the Light? 'S there something else you want to do here? Cause Luce's gonna be writing down everything, Taako's already starting his... his  _ alien cookbook _ . You got anything on your... intergalactic bucket-list?"

Barry laughs too, not as loud or long as usual, but a start. He ponders her question. “I really wanna focus on the Light, but... I also wanna try to see what makes everything so  _ big _ here. It’s a little weird when it’s so dark, right? Maybe I’ll look into that a little. How about you?” he asks. “Any cool stuff you wanna do?”

She could always help him, they’d make a great team. He’s getting ahead of himself, but then again he’s just trying to stay hopeful.

"Not sure yet. Might poke my head in on your research sometime, that sounds like it'll be interesting. Might go like... exploring, but without the agenda? Just take some time to take it all in, y'know? Ask the locals for all the pretty and weird places, find some myself." She smiles thinking about it. She's so used to being on the run, hell they all are at this point. It'd be nice to not have to run from anything, even for a little while. Take a backpack and live off of oversized fruit like the locals did way back when. 

Maybe he'd want to come with? Probably not, it'd be too much to ask with the long nights and dim days. He'd joined her now out of necessity, and already the trek was taking its toll on him. On a different world, maybe.

"You know you're always welcome to pop in and set me straight," he laughs. "I wonder if--hey maybe we're just really near a pole? Maybe somewhere there's more light. I wonder how that affects the people here. And the temperature? It's kinda warm here for a place that gets so little sun, I wonder." He falls quiet for a minute. If he was with her, he could almost believe they'd find a place like that. "If you want company, I could--you know come along. Listen, you know, be the ears. If you'll put up with me."

That seems like a big hope, but Barry's realizing that she's worth the dark, and dulls its sting. No, more than that. She's the sun, and her light can't be hidden. Anyone who tries it will do so over Barry's dead body.

"Gods, if we're near a pole, I can't imagine how hot the equator must be. Shit like that'd keep whole hemispheres of people from ever meeting." She smiles, a bit of their grief set aside. "I'm  _ so _ gonna find out. If you can handle the heat, you're welcome to tag along."

He draws a breath, fresh and cool now. Their shared hope has made it feel less like drowning in broken glass. There's space in him, now, not a void, but not a clench. Room to breathe, and to relax. He smiles at her. "You're a lifesaver. You must be tired, though?"

The dark is fully settled in for the night, hoots and howls of far-off and way-big creatures echoing, though it sounds a little less terrifying and a little more like the harmonies of a world that knows no different. There's beauty here and Lup sets her mind to find it, and to never let the fear outweigh it. 

She is tired, of course, but she can't imagine leaving Barry awake and alone just yet. "I'm alright if you want to get some rest. I'll wait 'til I recast the Hut to go back to trance." It's nonchalant, a statement not an offer. She tugs her pack over, pulling out a love-worn book. That'll keep her occupied for a few hours.

Barry wants to protest. But he's wrung out from hiking and flying and his breakdown and now that he's calm, he may actually sleep.

"I, uh, yeah. I'll turn in then. Feel free to--the light won't bother me, and like--if I'm in the way, or--personal space isn't an issue for me, either? Not to be like  _ that _ , but like, whatever makes you comfortable? I'll maybe stop talking, how 'bout," he says with a blush.

He lays down, curling up into a ball. There's no pillows or blankets for comfort, but at least he's not alone. "Night, Lup. Thanks for--everything. Being there. You know," he says before closing his eyes tightly.

It's dim and quiet and small, and that's the excuse Lup reasons in her head that she scoots her little makeshift pillow next to Barry and rolls onto her stomach there. She's only brought her jacket, so as not to drag a set of robes through the jungle, but it's more than nothing to offer him, nudging his shoulder and pushing the folded thing towards his head. Keeping decently warm isn't hard with the dome stopping the wind, but creature comforts have their purpose. Anything that makes the dark easier is worth it. "Any time. Night, Barry."

Barry keeps his eyes resolutely shut as she moves, tracking her in the small space by the rustling sounds she makes, realizing that she's taken him at his word and settled in by his side.

He cracks one eye open as she pushes the jacket toward him, and he tucks it under his head as she settles in with her sweater. "Thanks," he manages before a yawn robs him of speech. He wiggles into a comfortable position on the jacket.

Close quarters are nothing new, not for the crew and certainly not for a twin. So sidling up next to Barry just feels normal, stuffing the sweater under her chin and cracking open a book in low light is just a routine out of place. It's not quite dark enough for her eyes to refract eerie light; perfectly easy for the Elvish text to greet her from ancient pages. It's a classic, at least in their culture, and Lup wonders in passing if the others would know the title. Probably the translation is recognisable? She wouldn't know, deprived of elementary schooling and spoiled with the original translation. 

It doesn't take long for the familiar story to pull her in-- a nanny, maybe a witch, teaching manners and magic to rowdy kids who don't believe. It's fanciful, of course, but it reminds her of growing up in a way, before the road and the tricks. There's a slow little thump of her tail between the two of them that would read as content if anyone were left awake to notice.

Lup's got her book, and she looks so content to Barry, with a soft, nostalgic look on her face. He glances at the cover. It's in Elvish, and he's nowhere near fluent, but it seems familiar? Maybe something he's read in Common, a long time ago. He's sure he remembers one with an umbrella. The book looks like she's read it hundreds of times, maybe carried it around in her bag for stolen moments between classes or work shifts or gods know what. There's a nice, comfortable feel to that. New knowledge is wonderful, and Barry will chase it all day, but old story is what souls are made of.

Barry closes his eyes again. This is perfect, really, having her close but not focused on him, just reading familiar words over again. He doesn't feel like an inconvenience, but he does feel cared for. If he wakes up, she'll be there, and if she breaks her trance, later, he can be there for her, too.

If he could ask the universe for anything, petition the gods or bend reality to his will, he'd ask for her to stay with him, just like this, forever. That's not really a request for a god or the universe or reality, though, it's a request for her. He can't see his way clear to make that request less than an hour after shaking himself nearly to pieces in her arms, but maybe with enough time and familiarity he'll be able to one day. That's the audacity of love: it asks another to stay, knowing that that means staying during good and bad times. It takes guts, really, to hope that someone else will face your ugly parts without flinching.

Barry can feel himself drift softly, only hazily certain of his own being. It's nice. It's heavy like blankets, not crushing like rocks. It's warm like sweaters, not burning like scorching flame. It rolls like a gentle wave, it doesn't pull like an undertow. And it's enough to let Barry slip into the first comfortable sleep he's had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Well, looks like Barry's fallen solidly and imperfectly in love, buckle up as the pining intensifies!  
> SA: Alright, that's an emotion, folks! Now what if. Concept? *Say something*.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very good and chill thing to do, sometimes, is to gallivant all across a dark plane on a desperate mission and get very emotional and then just go straight on about business as usual.
> 
> "Business as usual" here means navigating clear and present danger while constantly on the verge of an existential crisis. Naturally. Since when does it mean anything else?

Hours pass uneventfully, but Lup only moves so far as to stretch her limbs and grab a piece of fruit. Her book is running out of pages when the dome starts to fizzle out; the light dims further, and flickers out entirely as the walls fall like melting ice. Lup sighs, flipping her book on its pages and pushing herself up. She wishes it were a more complicated spell, something that might offer a bit longer distraction than the minute-long casting, but soon enough the dome reforms, and it's as though nothing has changed. 

Barry blinks awake, eyes crusty and a bit swollen, nose a bit stuffy, but rested.

Wait,  _ rested? _

Somehow, it's impossible for Lup to get her focus back, reaching the end of a page and realising she's absorbed nothing. So she wills the light of the dome lower, until the only light inside is moonlight filtered through trees. From their position in the clearing, it's easy to roll over and watch the stars overhead. 

Barry feels the tickle of the grass under him and sees the moon above him glow softly, shedding just a bit of light, and he—

Wait, he’s  _ outdoors, _ it’s still night, no, wait, hold on, why?

The stars are closer than on Tüson, brighter, but still reminiscent in the patterns they mark in the sky. It's not the same sky; Lup wouldn't want it to be. They all miss home, they all hope they'll return there, but home isn't something you can replace so arbitrarily. Home is forged, built up around you when you're not paying attention. So either they get their home back, or they'll forge a new one. And laying in the grass on a foreign world, next to a friend who's seen her through the best and worst of the last six years, the latter feels almost possible.

Barry turns and looks to his side and there’s Lup, eyes glowing softly and looking up at the stars. It’s fine, she didn’t go anywhere.

Oh  _ gods. _

Barry’s memories of last night come crashing back hard—breaking and crying and hugging and love, followed by deep, dreamless sleep. This is about to be awkward.

She’s laid out next to him, not trancing. She must be spent, how long was he out?

“Hi, uh,” he tries, cutting himself off with a yawn. “Did you—you still need to trance?”

"Hmm?" She looks over to find Barry awake and  _ ahh beans, the light _ . She bolts up, snapping a small flame into existence in the dark while quickly willing the dome to lighten. "Shit, sorry, I was just," She blinks against the light, apology clear in her eyes. "I was just uhh, looking at the stars. You alright?" 

She snuffs the flame in a fist. The last thing Lup wants to do is scare him, especially after last night. They'd all been through enough, and this plane in particular was causing Barry more than his share of anxiety. And here she is, adding to it. 

"You uhh, you sleep okay?"

Wow, she’s amazing? She scrambled so quickly to light up the night for him. She cares so much about what he needs. Barry looks at her, wondering whether his feelings are plain on his face. Probably yes, he never was too good at keeping them hidden, he thinks.

“I’m good, better than good, I slept so long.” He sits up and stretches, noticing that he doesn’t feel as half-dead as he’s come to expect in the mornings. He searches her face and sees concern. “The stars are—they’re real pretty. It’s easier to look at ‘em from in here. Feels safer,” he says.  _ Safer with you, surrounded by your magic, _ he does not say.

He clears his throat. “Thanks for the light,” he says.

"Yeah, no problem. Sorry for putting it out, but... Sometimes I just gotta put it all in perspective, or whatever." She lays back, staring up at a night sky she can't quite see. "I dunno, pretty skies make a girl sappy, I guess."

They're stuck on this plane that's familiar but not familiar enough, but they're  _ alive _ here. Whatever cosmic bullshit is after them, they've survived it this far. Even if they didn't technically survive every year, they always come back. The seven of them aren't really plaenauts any more, not the saviours they wish they could be. They're refugees. And in some weird way, it helps Lup to remember that there isn't some crazy divine reason that they're in this mess. They're just a handful of scientists forced into a role they weren't trained for, so there's no reason it shouldn't be too much for them. 

Knowing that they're in it together helps, too. She's got Taako-- she couldn't imagine how she'd get by if they hadn't both been accepted to the mission, now more than ever. But she also has five kind and capable coworkers-turned-friends. One of whom has braved the dark of this world to keep her safe and in good company. 

So maybe it's not just the stars making her sappy.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m—I’m okay.” He smiles. He likes her when she’s sappy. He likes her all her ways, but sappy is very good.

“If you’re still watching, I can—I guess if I close my eyes it’s already dark, huh? I did that before and it was fine, or I can try—maybe looking at the sky, too?” he says. Maybe she wants to look by herself, he can understand that. But maybe it’s a good thing for...friends to do. Friends? Friends can do that.

"Really? I mean, only if you want to, I've had the lights out for a bit before you woke up." She hadn't expected him to  _ offer _ to be in the dark. Even as considerate as she knows him to be, willingly being uncomfortable in a way that's not at all beneficial to the mission at hand? Maybe he's still wanting to work on it, in a more controlled situation? That tracks.

He nods. “Yeah, like, hmmm. Nothing can get in here with us? And you—you can turn the light back up if I need it, right? And I’m—I don’t know, what’s the worst thing that could happen, I’ll cry? I already did that, it’s fine,” he laughs a little, at himself, at the situation. “And maybe it’ll be worth the view.”

Okay, so Barry won’t tell her he’s in love with her yet. He’s not ready, but if she was maybe possibly sort of in love with him also or kinda guessed? He could probably make that work. Probably.

She has to laugh, too; the way he can joke about it gives her reason to believe he's telling the truth. "Yeah, just say the word and I'll light it up. I  _ promise _ , it's worth it."

So they both settle back, and Lup focuses on bringing the lights down and out. Eyes always take a moment to adjust, but it only takes a second for specks of light to break up the darkness. She turns to him, wide eyes reflecting the starlight back at him. "See? Beautiful."

All Barry can see are stars and big, gorgeous eyes. “Beautiful,” he agrees. He looks up at the night sky.

He falls silent for a bit, one hand resting on his stomach and one on the grass between them, gazing up at the stars. He wishes he knew whether they were the same as back home. He didn’t really go out to look before. Are the constellations different?

He turns back to Lup and grins bashfully. “You’re right, it’s so worth it.”

In the dark, with the crickets(?) chirruping and infinite worlds glittering above them, it's easy to imagine they're back home. Not just the ship, that they've been begrudgingly calling home for the past few years, but actual,  _ real _ , home. Lup has to believe it's still out there, somewhere in the black. That the friends they made at the Institute, the Astral soul of her tía, that they were all still somewhere. Because maybe then they stand a chance of getting them back. 

She doesn't even realise she's tearing up until the spots of light above start to blur together. Her breaths start to sniff, and she wipes at her eyes.  _ Not the time, nor the place, Lup. _

Barry hears the small sniffs and feels rustling beside him. “Hey,” Barry says, nudging her gently. “You’re crying, are you okay? Too beautiful?”

If he can help, he will, she’s proven she’d do the same for him. He’s got an arsenal of comfort, it just needs finding out what will help her most. He shifts to face her a bit more. “Need to talk about it or a hug or anything?” he offers.

_ Dammit. _ She wipes at her eyes, but can't quite bring herself to roll over to him. 

"No, no, I'm not making you sad  _ again _ tonight. It's fine," she says with a bit of a laugh. They could talk about it when the dark wasn't trying to swallow him and the stars didn't remind her of nights on the road. Now that's a memory she didn't expect to miss. 

As she stares at the sky, stars still just streaks of light in her vision, she can't keep her mind from wandering to all those people they left behind. They weren't all good people, but they were  _ people _ . With lives and families, and no matter what awful things they were capable of, they deserved  _ life. _ She feels tears starting to spill into her ears, so she finally turns over, feeling more than a little pathetic. "I'll never turn down a hug though."

He wraps her in his arms, pulling her closer. “C’mere, I’ve got you. I’ll listen all night if you want, or just stay close,” he says. She’s gotta be tired, and maybe something about the stars or the night has upset her. She seemed like she barely realized she was crying, like when an old, half-remembered pain resurfaces, or a crack in an emotional dam.

He rubs his big hand up and down her slight back, slow and reassuring. That she’s attractive and Barry wants her is the farthest thing from the point right now; that she’s upset and Barry will steady and comfort her is top of mind. “You don’t have to worry about making me sad, promise. I’m good to listen; you won’t remind me that things are shit, I never forgot,” he says. “All that sadness has to go somewhere, and it’s safe to let it out here.”

She laughs, though it sounds more like a sob, and lets him pull her over. It's fine, really, she's fine. And then something about his words,  _ it's safe to let it out _ , has her burying her face in his shoulder. It feels small to cry over folks she's never met or family long dead, but knowing that doesn't make her breath come any easier or Barry's shirt stay any drier. 

"It's just so many  _ people _ . That we left behind?" She takes a shuddering breath, pulling back to wipe at her eyes. "It's... It feels silly? Cause we all lost people, like actual people we knew? But I'm just thinking about like, my physics professor? Or that Dean that always brought in her daughter? And then I'm glad Tía wasn't there to see that but then I just... miss her too? It doesn't even make sense, I'm just. So tired of missing people." She looks guilty even saying it out loud, fresh tears onto her makeshift pillow. Her eyes won't meet his, infinitely grateful for the dark as she sniffles and breathes and collects herself. "Sorry.."

She pulls back, Barry’s hand still resting at her back, just a steady, light pressure. “No need to be sorry,” he says. “Seems like, if you miss them that much it’s because you love them. It’s only natural to be sad when you can’t be near someone you love.”

She loves so damn hard, and that’s a lot to handle, Barry knows. He searches for the words to say to help. “I can’t...hmmm. I can’t lie to you and tell you everything’s okay, because it very fucking much isn’t. But I can promise that as far as it depends on me, I’ll be here to listen and try to get back to them. And we can help each other remember them, we can tell stories about them and then it’s kinda like a piece of them’s here.” He slides his hand up to the back of her shoulder and gives it a little rub.

"Yeah." She smiles halfway, nods. Having someone else to talk to lifts a bit more of that grief from her chest; not only to talk to but to tell stories, keep their memories alive and  _ growing _ . It won't bring them back, but it might make them feel a little less gone. "Yeah, I think that'd be nice."

She won't pretend his hand on her back isn't a comfort, won't kid herself that she isn't glad for the contact. It's a rare friend that would keep their arms around her and not feel weird about it, and that's okay. But laying here with the weight of their grief split between them, she won't deny her relief that he's one of those rare few. 

The hours of watch, the tears, all begin catching up to her bundled in next to him. Trying to meditate now would be a nightmare. But sleep... sleep she can handle. "I uhh.. I might just sleep a bit, if you don't mind? But I  _ will _ take you up on that, I promise. And I want to hear your stories too, if you want to tell 'em." She settles in, still close enough to keep his arm around her. "And thank you."

Barry nods. “That sounds like a plan,” he says, a little lightly. Sleep will help; everything looks better when you’re not bone-tired. “Sleep well, can’t wait to hear those stories, I’ll bet you’ve got some doozies.” He shifts so his arm will rest comfortably around her, and ends up snuggling closer in the process. “And you’re always welcome, that’s what friends are for, right?”

He pauses. “I’ll, uh, do my best, here, to keep an eye out, but I may wind up a little dozy myself. Humans, am I right? Just give me a little shove if you need to,” he says.

He can do this, this is fine. Sometimes friends hold each other through the night, is what they do. Friends for sure don’t press a kiss to her forehead, which is very much one idea that occurs to him. Friends very much don’t say things like ‘love you babe, dream of me’ to each other. No. Barry will just lay here and be glad for the contact and trust until morning.

She wills a faint glow to the dome, just in case. “That’s okay, this thing should hold ‘til it’s light out. Doubt I’ll sleep that long anyway.” She welcomes the familiar feeling of another body laying next to her, a feeling that she’s always associated with safety and home. And the world feels a little less like it’s ending.

“Goodnight, Barry. I—“ She cuts herself off with a yawn that gives her a second to think about what her tired mind wants to say. She’s used to snuggling up with Taako, whispered habits in another language. But in Common, ‘I love you’s all sound the same. And she can’t hope to explain the difference between care and reverence with her eyelids growing heavy like this. Friends don't say ‘I love you’ like this. So she won’t. She’ll just close her eyes and snuggle in, and be grateful for the understanding they do have.

As Lup snuggles into his side, Barry breathes deep and hopes his heart won’t race. She’s warm, and they’re close and safe. She’s left the light, dim but  _ there _ , for him.

It’s funny to think about the way things turn out. About the way they could’ve gone. In his younger days, under different circumstances, if Lup had challenged him to pool like that night before launch, he’d still have lost. The difference would be that he would’ve also been much drunker and made some sort of embarrassingly forward move, and that would’ve either ended with them hooking up or with her sending him off blushing scarlet and feeling two inches tall. Either would’ve probably spiraled into an awkward ghosting situation, with him unable to face her the next day. Experience has tamed him now, at least a little, but it’s also allowed feelings to take root, and those are always bigger than expected.

In the few years they’ve traveled together, Lup’s been a reliable crewmate, and a trusted friend. But it’s more than that, too. Lup’s done things, remembered things, to meet Barry’s needs even when it was hard for him to be up front about them. She’s taught him so many things. Teaching him to sign starting back in that first cycle had been one of the things that really began to shift things in his mind. Being able to communicate clearly in this way led to better communication in general. And all of that has led to tonight, being able to accept comfort from her when he needed it most.

He shouldn’t put her on the spot with a grand confession, he decides. The scent of her hair curls in his nostrils, shampoo, spices, smoke. He can hold on until they’re stable then see whether she feels the same way. But in the meantime he can’t help treating her with reverence and care, and gods help anyone who tries to harm her with him around.

Barry shifts slightly, snuggles in tight, lays his glasses aside, and closes his eyes.

\---

Morning comes with soft light and a breeze that tells Lup the dome has fallen. It's with knowing smiles that they pack up camp, sharing cured meats and a Mega Persimmon between them as they trek further west. 

They find nothing. 

Which is not to say they see nothing. The forest gets more dense, expands into rolling plains, is bisected with the creek they know flowing into a raging river lined with flowers like they've never seen. This world is beautiful and new, but none of its strange beauty has come from the Light. 

Taako Sends for Lup, and the pair agree to return, knowing it will be empty handed. It takes well past nightfall to reach the familiar structures of the village, and Lup is well past exhausted when they drop their packs in the room they've borrowed off and on since making contact. The beds reach her shoulders, and she could easily stand under the desk without ducking. The whole arrangement makes her uncomfortable, moreso than usual given the nature of their return. 

She slides down to sit against the wall, head falling back in resignation. "We'll have to talk to Leanna before we leave. Let her know the score." Gods, she's not looking forward to that.

Barry runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe someone here’s seen something, I don’t know. Maybe we can try another direction next? It’s gotta be somewhere.”

The two of them had ranged further westward than they’d ever been, and Barry knows they need to go back, but. What if it had been just ten more yards? Another mile maybe? What if they’d missed some sign that was right under their noses? The idea haunts him.

Though their trip kept them out well past dark, Barry had felt more at ease this time. It was still terrifying, no miraculous change there, but he and Lup had chattered back and forth, sharing memories, sometimes small ones, like the one fellow at the bakery who always warned Barry if there was milk lurking in a glaze or something that he hadn’t noticed, sometimes bigger ones, like close friends and family. It helped a lot, shaping the stories and sending them out, and knowing that now both of them knew about things like the incident at the Maypole Dance thirty-odd years ago, and those things wouldn’t be forgotten.

“What do you think, first thing in the morning tell her and then head out?”

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe they'll be willing to put out another search party? I hate to ask them but I mean, we need the man-power." She shrugs, feeling more hopeless now that they've stopped moving. She needs to get up, needs to  _ do _ something, but her tired legs and aching heart doth protest. 

With a bit of struggle, she commands her legs hold her, kicking off her boots and heading for the door. "Cha'girl needs a shower-- I feel like day-old ass. I understand if ya need a break from your bestest hiking friend, but I do  _ not _ promise hot water if you wait." There's a wry smile there as she shrugs off her jacket, leaving all the too-muddy articles by the door. 

It has come to the crew's attention, after a few weeks of interacting with them, that the locals of Dusk have a similar relationship to gender as they do to clothes. That is to say, most stylistic differences were more tied to rank, and some didn't pay much attention to any of it. As a people accustomed to living in the dark and sharing any and everything, it makes sense. It's still a bit of a culture shock, though. 

The residential structure, in which the crew had secured a room for their use, hosts what honestly reminds Lup of dorm bathrooms? But she's not one to look a gift-shower in the faucet, and hot water sounds more than a little like a dream at the moment, so she tosses her dirty uniform on a hook and slides a curtain back.

Barry blushes as Lup heads for the showers. He'd never, ever in a million years, allow so much as an eyeball in there uninvited.

But he's invited.

Alright, then, one rather awkward Barry, coming up. Time to get clean, no need to be--

It's fine, he doesn't have to  _ look _ \--

She'll  _ notice _ , see him blushing and  _ know _ he wants her--

It's  _ fine. _ He heads after her, picking a spot a little ways down.

Gods, hot water truly is its own form of magic. Sure, some Prestidigitation would technically get the job done, but the act of standing under running water has a way of solving most problems. Maybe not the lack of Light, or the existential dread of leaving (nearly) everyone and everything she's ever loved on a cold dead plane in the middle of a hungry void. But. Most. 

Between the vaguely bioluminescent fabric of the curtains and the patter of water, Barry probably can't hear Lup humming. Maybe it's some instinctual thing left over like the way a near-purr has of calming her, maybe it's just the memories of music from home. But she's doing her best to find the little moments to keep those memories alive. 

Barry steps into the shower and begins to wash, stubbornly methodical. He’s left space between them, he won’t even pay attention to the fact that she’s in here, he’ll just—

Gods, either his imagination is playing tricks on him or she hums in the shower.

That’s the cutest fucking thing—

He scrubs at the mud that’s somehow gotten up one leg of his jeans and above the sock. He’s not going to creep on her in the shower like some sort of gross pervert. He loves her, and the best way he can show it is to let her have a shower in godsdamned peace.

More luminescent fabrics to wring out Lup’s hair and wrap around her frame softly light her way back to the borrowed room. Sleep won't come easy, but she might as well try. Maybe she'll finish her book. Again. She settles into a t-shirt and heaves herself onto the too-tall bed, letting damp hair hang off the edge rather than soak the sheets.

Barry hears as she finishes up, lingers a few moments, and then follows. He winds up back at the door to the room. He’s left enough time, surely she’s dressed. He walks in slow, anyhow, just in case. She’s on the bed, wet hair dangling down, cozy t-shirt and—

Oh  _ holy fuck, _ no pants, just long legs and bare feet.

“Uh,” he stammers. “You have a good shower?”

She watches the door open, catching his words over (under?) the pages of her book. She's barely gotten a page in, but she's read it a million times-- Except he's not dressed yet.  _ Oops _ . She averts her eyes back to the pages, blocking her view with the book. 

"Yeah, great. Clean as a whistle. You?"

She stares at the pages but doesn't take in a word, listening for his voice. It's fine, it's chill, she's chill. Five years together and you'll see an ass or a midriff on occasion. But not on purpose. And that's a respect she's not forgoing, regardless of the time.

“I, uh, yeah, real nice,” Barry fumbles. He makes a grab for clothes, sticking his hand into his bag, blurry without his glasses, and comes up with a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Alright, good, adequate, he’ll deal with his jeans in the morning. He pulls them on quickly, replacing the strange towel, and digs for a t-shirt to go with them.

Ah fuck, one of these godsdamned days he’ll start making packing lists, and then it’ll be over for these fools.

He looks up sheepishly. “I’m, uhhh, as decent as I’ll get, looks like. We seem to have a full set of PJs between us,” he jokes.

Lup peeks, faux-tentative with an eyebrow raised, under the top of the book. She sticks her tongue out, seemingly satisfied with this state of affairs, and sets the book aside. 

"Pants are a social construct, Barold. I was gonna say 'jeans are forever', but..." She rolls over, chin in hands and feet in the air like this is some proper sleepover gossip. "It seems they may have clad their last ass. Swore you were a sleep-jeans kinda dude." She laughs, taking the chance to Mage Hand a comb from her pack. Semi-dry brushing is better than giving her hair free rein over night, a lesson she keeps relearning. 

"It'll be nice to not have to take watch tonight. Catch some proper sleep, yeah?"

Barry laughs, too. Sleep-jeans, yeah that sounds like him. "Yeah, a full night'll be good. Tonight there's a strict moratorium on crises of any kind, I forbid them," he jokes.

He scrambles up onto one of the beds. She's been reading her book again, and now she's pulling a comb through her hair, little  _ snnnck, snnnck _ sounds following it. It's relaxing.

Her hair would look so pretty braided close to her head, just draping in smooth vees from her crown down to her neck, then down her back. She can't see the back of her head, but he could--

Oh,  _ wow, _ okay. Where did that idea come from?

"Seconded. If anyone cries, I walk." A snort punctuates that thought. She does braid her hair, after a while of working through knots. It's messy; Lup's one for functionality over presentation unless it really matters, and she's not working to impress anyone tonight. 

"I'm not keeping ya up, am I? You can put out the light, y'know, darkvision and all that." After the day they've had, the week really, she wouldn't blame him for turning in the second he gets the chance. She can absolutely whip out a plait with her eyes closed. Would be a bit lonely, though.

"No, it's--the light's fine, I'm good, I--want me to braid it? It's easier when it's on someone else," Barry fumbles.

Oh,  _ hell. _ Backpedal  _ immediately _ , no no no.

"It's totally fine if not, I--I don't know where that came from, just 'open mouth insert foot', I guess. Sorry, I know you've got it handled, like it's your hair, right? Just, fuck, you can tell me to shut up if you want, no pressure," he manages. Why in the everloving fuck does he  _ talk _ ever? What is  _ happening _ right now? He cried all over her last night and now he's sitting here shirtless offering to stick his fingers all through her hair, come on, Barry, for real?

She pauses a moment, fingers tangled near her ears. And shrugs. 

"I mean, sure, if you're offering. 'tll definitely turn out better than what I've got going." That's real sweet of him, and Lup for one won't pass up a chance to to  _ not _ deal with damp curls she can't quite see. Everyone's always lamenting the second she mentions the thought of cutting it; it's validating to see other people try wrangling it and realise that it's  _ work _ . She'll still keep it long. She's got a brand. An undercut might be in the future though.  _ Wonder if that resets like the rest every year... _

She tosses the comb over to his bed and slides off of hers. It's a bit of a hop and a heave to get back up to that height, but flip-wizard-siblingry will train a girl right. "Knock yourself out, kid. Not as easy as I make it look though."

Barry chuckles a little as she settles in. "I mean, that's a lot of hair, it's allowed to be a challenge I guess?" he quips. He picks up the comb and runs it gently through the strands. She's already handled the major knots, but he finds a smaller tangle or two and gently coaxes them free.

He skims a layer of hair off the top, carefully separating it and combing it into place, and starts to braid, pulling in more thin layers as he works his way down. She's so close to him, but this is just about making her comfortable for bed. It's not some skeezy move, he tells himself sternly. He's being helpful, no, friendly,  _ neighborly _ . That's what this is.

He continues on, all her hair gathered in now as he reaches the nape of her neck and weaves the length into a single braid to fall down her back. Her hair is truly beautiful, lustrous and curly and smelling of shampoo. Running his hands through it, smoothing it out, feels heavenly. "You have anything to tie this off?" he asks as he nears the end.

She offers her hand for the comb when that bit's taken care of. It's nice, oddly platonic and intimate at the same time. And that's sort of what they are now, thrown together as colleagues and  _ stuck there _ . They've grown together as a little family, and this is just another little familial ritual she can share with him. If her brother's not there to do it, Lup's actually real happy Barry's willing to fill in. She doesn't  _ need _ him to, but that's part of the point. 

There's a little elastic wrapped around the comb's handle, stretched and threadbare at one point, that Lup tugs off and passes back. Nary a hairband can handle her curls for long, and this sorry trooper is no exception. She can count on Taako to fix it though. She always can. 

"Not bad, not bad," She pulls the tail of the plait over her shoulder, examining his work with far too much scrutiny. Solid and even, all the way down. "Kudos to you. Should teach Mags your secrets; he's been begging Ko to let him at his hair, but no  _ way _ 's he trust like that."

Barry ties off the end of the braid and waits as she examines it. He breaks into a grin at her praise and chuckles. “It’s no  _ secret _ , it’s just a little patience,” he teases.

She chuckles, tossing the comb over to her bag. _Tunk._ Well, close enough. "Guess that's bedtime, 'n off to face the music in the morning." _Great..._

He slides back a little, further onto the bed. “Yeah, I guess we should turn in. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll get some good news. Feel free to do, uh, whatever, light-wise, if you need it to read some more or anything it won’t bother me,” he says. He starts to peel back the covers and crawl underneath, settling in on the pillow. “Night, Lup.”

Her instinct is to hop under the covers, the too-big everything making her really miss sharing her bed all of a sudden. But that's... definitely not cool. That's not a thing  ~~ colleagues ~~ friends do, twins aside. So she nods, climbing back into her own  ~~ big, cold, lonely ~~ bed.

"Night, Barry." 

She keeps the lights on, reading until she's sure he's asleep and won't mind the dark, then slips under the covers for the night.

He feels a momentary pang as she slides down off his bed and tucks into her own.

Of course she’s gonna sleep in her own bed, that’s why his brain thought of it as hers. His heart’s slower on the uptake. Man, hearts are feral beasts, they do whatever they want, without respect for logic or social strictures.

Even so, though, she’s close and the light is reassuring. He fades into sleep, vividly replaying the soothing motion of braiding her hair— _right side, left side, right side, left._ He only lies awake for a little while, relatively speaking. He still curls up tight, knees tucked up and clutching the pillow, but the miles of travel have worn his body out well enough that he can sleep.

The following day finds them both cleaning up their clothes as far as possible, grabbing a bite to eat, and going in search of Leanna. “Let’s do this, maybe they’ll have found it while we were out,” Barry says. He reaches out and knocks on one of the giant timbers making up the doorframe as they head out.

"Gods, I hope." The door swings slow, and a comparatively small Leanna welcomes them inside. Fewer folks are milling about this building than the two are used to seeing, perhaps a holiday? She asks as much. 

"No, no, the hunting party has gone out for an extended trip; it seems your arrival has sparked interest in the unknown." She brings them around to a familiar room with uncomfortably tall chairs. "You bring news of your Light?"

Lup presses her lips. "Well... Yes and no. We've hiked the western clearing and beyond by nearly a day, and haven't been able to find it. Is... Are you  _ sure _ there's no one here who might have seen it? Who would want to take it,  _ use _ it?" She trusts Leanna, believes that she would want to help them. But it's not unthinkable that she'd want to help her own people more. Maybe they didn't explain the dangers clearly enough, maybe there's no way to truly convey what cold desolation was coming for them. 

Maybe they just missed it, and this plane would crumble because of them.

Leanna’s face is hard to read, as always, but Barry thinks she looks sincere. “No, I fully believe that if anyone here found such an item they would bring it here for the benefit of us all. Will you be expanding your search, then?” she asks.

Barry sighs. “Yes, we’ll need to speak to the rest of our crew, but that’s the best plan we have right now. Thank you again for helping with this, I really can’t stress how important it is.”

Every time Barry thinks about the Light he feels a little sicker. This isn’t a little mistake, it could cost all of these people their lives. At the same time, there’s no way he can set it right on his own and what if? There are a lot of what ifs. Lup would never give up, he’s sure, not in her spirit, but her body? What if she gets hurt or sick or dies? Then what? He hates every answer he comes up with.

Lup sighs, the weight of their mistake chipping away at her normally infinite resolve. Right. Talk to the crew, set up a larger-scale search. It's all fine in theory. Until they have to tell the crew face-to-face that they've lost the Light. Until they have to ask the others to join in fixing their mistake. Until they're putting even more lives at risk. 

"Of course. And if we can help you to cover more ground, we will. This is, after all, our home; protecting it is to the benefit of us all. Our Hunting dedications have the necessary skills to aid the search, I would assume." Leanna squares her shoulders, and without the comparison of her people it's easier to see her as imposing. 

Lup feels sick. More people at risk, because they couldn't do what they'd done for years. But they need the help at this point, or the whole plane was going down because of them. "We'll keep you informed where we intend to search next, maximise our coverage. And uhm, I know you believe no one would hide the Light from the group, but... We still suggest keeping an eye out."

Leanna nods. It’s unclear whether the gesture is common here or something the crew has introduced. “I will, certainly. It can’t hurt to be too cautious at this point,” she affirms.

Barry slides down from the big chair, turning to check that Lup has made it down too. “Thank you again, Leanna, we’ll keep you updated. Thank you for your help,” he says.

Barry heads out the door and down the street with Lup, toward the outskirts of the village. They can go back to the ship, and deal with the others’ judgment. Barry knows they’ll forgive. Barry hates needing forgiveness.

As they reach the last few yards before the village gives way to nature, Barry spots one of the hunting party coming back, running. Strange that they’d be alone, where are the rest?

As the hunter comes closer, Barry can make out more recognizable features. It’s Devon, and from the look of things and the amount of blood, not well off. “Devon? What happened? Stop, you’re hurt, where are the others?” Barry asks.

Devon pitches forward, his wounds catching up to him as Barry catches him. “Jean,” Devon says. “It was so pretty, and Jean took it and then just—oh no no no, it hurts,” he groans, and with a shudder he collapses in Barry’s arms.

_ Ohh gods... _ Lup has never seen one of these people injured to such an extent; she's helping lower Devon and put pressure on his wounds in the only way she knows how. She's not medically trained, but this much she can do. There's no way they can carry him into town on their own without risking further injury, so she shoves her pack under his head and helps Barry get a grasp of the worst of his injuries. 

"I-- I'll get Leanna. Can you--Do you got him?"  _ Jean? He'd said something about Jean... Gods what had they done.. _ Her jacket comes off, wrapped and tied around an angry gash on his arm, and then she's bolting back to the town, yelling for a medic. 

She comes back followed by a doctor and a few passersby who had offered help. If her slowly-growing understanding of their expressions is anything to go off of, they look rightfully horrified. The doctor takes one look and instructs the rest to get Devon back to Recovery, and all Lup and Barry can do is follow. 

Leanna meets them on the way, another kind villager having gone to fetch her. "What has happened? Have the others returned as well?"

Barry tries to break the news gently. “Devon’s the only one back so far, and injured. He said that Jean—it wasn’t terribly clear, but it sounds like they found the Light and that Jean has it now. And that Jean may have taken it by force.” He looks apologetic. “No word yet on the others.”

Leanna nods slowly. “When Devon is stable we will need to speak with him. We may still need the help of your party to sort this out,” she says.

"Absolutely. Is there any way we can help Devon?" Lup's hand shakes at her side, still streaked with his blood. She's no expert, but they caused this, so she  _ needs _ to help. It doesn't matter that they didn't mean to bring the Light here or that their goal was to help-- if Devon dies, the weight of that death is landing square on her shoulders. 

Leanna rests a hand on her shoulder, holding the two back as the villagers bring Devon to Recovery. "Ted is capable, your help isn't needed for this. Perhaps communicate with your crew, so that you will be prepared when Devon is stable."

Lup nods, frustrated but in no position to argue. She's right, it's the best course of action. "We can do that. Okay. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Barry agrees. “Okay. Hopefully the other hunters will come in soon,” he says. He and Lup pick up their packs and head back toward the ship.

Barry is worried. He tries to keep the chatter positive and reassuring as they head back, but there’s an awful thought in the back of his mind insisting that some of the blood on Devon’s clothes belonged to someone else. How many hunters would come back? Maybe that was just the anxiety brain bringing that up. He always did dream up the worst case scenarios.

For all of Barry's attempts to keep the conversation going, he's met with an anxious silence. Lup wants to bite, wants to believe when he says that Devon will be fine and that this is a lead but it's hard to feel like they’re closer to anything but hurting more people. 

They're met by the others once the hull door slides open. The usual warm welcome changes to worry when they spot the blood, which of course leads to a harried attempt to explain the situation. 

"It's very possible they've found the Light. But either something else found it too or..." Lup leans over the kitchen sink, scrubbing blood from her knuckles. "It sounded like Jean has it."

Lup’s words trigger a chorus of frustration and fear: “Fuck!” and “Phew, don’t like that!” and “Godsdammit!”

“We don’t know for sure,” Barry says, “but for what it’s worth? I’d say it might be best to go forward as though Jean has it and is...dangerous. Desperate, maybe, we should be prepared.”

He hopes it won’t come to the crew allying themselves with the village against Jean—and maybe the other hunters? But they need to get the Light back, that’s priority one.

“Alright, well, I’m going back with you for sure, who else?” Magnus asks.

There's a chorus of “Me too”s, and a much longer cacophony of "Well I'm going" and " _ Someone's _ gotta stay ship-side!" and "Not it"s before it's decided that Lucretia will stand watch on the Starblaster. Merle might very well be needed if shit goes sideways, and Taako is quote, “absolutely not letting you back out there without me, what the fuck sis”, endquote. Supplies are gathered, a quick dinner/game-planning sesh is had, and the crew heads out.

They do not at all expect what they come back to. 

It's almost like the first few times they'd visited the village, people waiting at the road for them. But that's where the similarities end. This time, they are armed with bows and spears that had up until now only been used for hunting. Easily a dozen looming figures block the path into town. The group shares confused looks when the most imposing figure calls for them to halt. 

"What-- Is Devon alright? What's going on?" Lup steps forward, until one figure meets her words with a spear pointed at her chest. Her hands go up automatically, she looks to Barry--  _ What the hell? _

_ Oh shit. _ Barry raises his hands too, slowly. First priority is  _ getting that spear focused somewhere other than Lup. _ "Whoa, now, no need for violence," he begins. He shoots a look at Magnus--he'd better be more rustic hospitality and less foolhardiness about now. Hopefully someone's got eyes on Taako, if anything would drive him to action, this would be it. He stifles a sigh. Always diplomacy, godsdammit. "We're here to help, and to check on Devon, may we pass?" he asks.

"Your help is not needed," the leader states flatly. Barry thinks he's met this one before--Billie?

Barry chances a glance at Merle. "We've brought a healer," he offers. "Merle can help Devon and any of the others who may be hurt. Please, put the spear down, we don't want any trouble."

"Devon will recover. Your help is not needed."

Lup places her palm on the spear, slowly pressing it away from her with a shaky breath.  _ Deffo not how she'd expected to be welcomed back. _ "Please, guys, we're just here to help, ask Leanna--"

"Leanna is not in charge." Another, with bow drawn. "There is a new Resolver." 

Lup could be sick. Before she has time to breathe and respond, there's a strong hand on her shoulder tugging her back from the spear. She can almost make out her brother's wary voice behind her-- "Magnus,  _ don't... _ "

"What did you do to her?  _ Where's Leanna? _ "

"Magnus--" Barry warns.

Magnus steps forward. "Take us to the new Resolver then, we'll deal directly with them. If I find out you harmed-- _ shit! _ " he cries as an arrow catches him in the side. Merle moves to check the wound.

"Leave this place. You are not permitted here. We will not ask again," the leader says.

Merle looks up from examining Magnus's wound. "Guys, they mean business. We can't take too many hits like this," he warns. The weapons are large compared to anything the crew could wield, and large compared to their bodies.

Barry nods in agreement. "We don't want trouble, please, lower your weapons, there's no need for this," he pleads.

She stumbles with Magnus, Taako rushing to pull her away.  _ What-- How did it get to this? They were just-- _ "Magnus? Magnus!"

A regular arrow, and Magnus would be back on his feet, but the size of the bolt sticking out of his side makes him look smaller than Lup would like. She stands her ground, despite Taako's efforts to tug her back. "What are you  _ doing!? _ We're here to help you!  _ Please! _ " 

"Lup, we're  _ going _ ." Taako finally tears her away as Magnus stumbles to his feet. "C'mon.  _ Live to fight another day. _ " Their old mantra has a new bite to it, hurriedly muttered in a language this world has never heard. She can't help but look back as they run, to see former friends reloading their bows and aiming for them.

Barry wraps an arm behind Magnus's back, supporting him. "Come on big guy, we gotta go, stay with me," he says. They hurry after Merle and the twins, going as fast as they can with Magnus injured this way. Once they're safe on the ship, there'll be plenty of time for  _ think, sometimes _ and  _ better a live coward than a dead hero _ and several other things on the tip of Barry's tongue. There'll be time to come up with a new strategy too.

It's apparent that Jean has done something, and Barry's pretty sure that didn't mean just injuring Devon. The worst-case scenario looms again in his brain, fleshed out with new information: the Light was found, Jean took it by force, hurt Devon, hurt or killed the hunters maybe, did who knows what to Leanna? The Light is beautiful, and it's desirable, but this is so much violence to get at it. 

Barry doesn't like how this is shaking out at all. The crew's survival will get that much harder if they're unwelcome in the village, and what if...

They're  _ hunters. _

Fuck.

The worry from Barry and Lup's arrival is nothing compared to when they drag Magnus aboard with a veritable  _ pike _ in his gut. Lucretia looks up from her sketching on the deck and her questions are immediately flying a million miles an hour. 

"They got the damned Light, Luce." Taako's visibly  _ done _ with this plane, and Lup understands why. "We should've never fuckin' trusted them. We come here to save their ass an--"

" _ Ko. _ Not helping." It's killing her just like it's killing him, but she's always been more forgiving and it shows. He storms off, and she can only follow him and the crew to tend to Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Oh no, oh shit, oh fuck, the emotional whiplash for these fools I swear!
> 
> SA: They got like, almost two full nights of sleep! That's far too many for these fools, had to even that out, natch!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone gets on everyone else's asses about caution.
> 
> Except their own, naturally.

They take dinner in the medbay, sat on counters and chairs to plan their next steps. Which is to say, everyone has their own ideas and none of them are terribly fleshed out. 

"I say fuck 'em. We warned them, and they fuckin'  _ shot Magnus _ ." Taako waves a hand at the bandaged human on the cot beside him.

Lup's taken to brushing off his harsh commentary; she has to believe he doesn't mean it. "It's not  _ them _ , it's the Light. It's doing something to them, to Jean probably. We still have to help them. At least  _ try _ ."

“Okay.” Gods _ damn _ does Barry wish Davenport was here to make this call. “It’s obvious they’ve turned against us, yes; we need to get the Light, yes; but also they  _ did _ shoot Magnus and that means we’re down two, at least temporarily,” Barry points out.

“I’ll be fine soon, as soon as I’m back in the game we can totally fight them for it,” Magnus insists.

“Like hell, you’re resting until further notice. That’s not just a splinter you’ve got,” Merle counters.

Lucretia scribbles notes furiously. “Have we thought about subterfuge at all? Any chance there?” she supplies.

Barry blows out a breath. “We need to know where it  _ is, _ first, for sure. My best guess is the village, seeing as they’re not willing to let us in there.”

"My guess? We find Jean, we find the Light. You guys have felt it-- once you  _ have _ it? You're not gonna want to just leave it somewhere. He's gonna want it on his person or somewhere he can protect it." Even as she's rationalising all of this, it feels numb. They tried so hard to get the Light for these people, and now the very people they're trying to protect that stand in the way of their own safety. And they  _ know _ , as much as anyone can understand without watching world after world burn down around them. They  _ know _ this will kill them. And still they can't let themselves be saved. 

" _ I _ like subterfuge? If you won't let me punch it out of 'em,” is immediately followed by a chorus of  _ No Magnus _ .

They talk around and around. They talk it to death and back again. It’s never really fully settled, it just shakes out: Magnus needs to recover. No unnecessary risks. Get the Light back. Be sneaky. In the end, do what you have to, and hope that’s nothing terrible.

Barry waits until the rest have filtered out of the medbay. He sits down next to Magnus. “Mags...what was that out there? We need you alive and healthy, come on, bud! Think before you square off with a bunch of big guys that are armed, alright?” he says wearily. This had a lot more heat in his brain earlier, but now he’s just...tired. The adrenaline’s burned off; he’s ready to crash and he’s  _ so _ tired.

Magnus huffs, settling back against the pillow. He'd kept a strong, upright face during their planning, but even a brick-shithouse of a fighter could look a bit worse for wear after taking what he had. 

"I know. I know, but. Barry, they're  _ killin' _ folks by not letting us help! Hell, they're killin' themselves. I didn't think... We were all friends, I didn't think they'd actually do it. I was just there yesterday! I helped Marta fix that fence, y'know the one's been givin' her trouble since that storm? I just... I don't  _ get _ it, Barry." There's a lot less fight in his words now that he's not working to convince the crew to go back or the village to let them in. What there is is a lot of care for a people they only just met. And the look on his face says Magnus feels he's already failed them.

Barry sighs. He places a hand on Magnus's knee. "I know, bud. I--fuck, listen, they're killing folks, but just...you don't have to be one of 'em, okay? We stand a better chance of survival with you alive, remember that. Think first, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah I know. I just-- I don't get it." He probably never will. And sitting in a gurney with gauze from nip to trow, Magnus doesn't think he really wants to. ‘Cause the second he understands how friends can willingly turn against each other is the moment his trust in humanity has left him. As much as the wound in his gut keeps him in bed and cuts his breaths short, he'd take a hundred arrows to keep his friends safe. Even the new ones. 

Magnus's heart is in the right place, it always is. But Barry can't lose another friend this cycle, none of them can. It hadn't just been Magnus in harm's way, it was Lup, too, and really it could've been all of them after that, toppled like dominoes. Barry's determined not to let that happen, but he's got the nagging feeling that he may not get a say.

"I'll let you get some rest, get better soon," he says, a softness to the gravel of his voice.

Magnus nods, "Always do. You get some sleep too. Ya'guys had a rough coupla days." Magnus waves him off, and settles in to stare at the ceiling. Easier said than done.

\--

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Taako sets down a stack of plates from dinner on the counter then turns around to face Lup. “Do not,” he says, signing along emphatically, “ _ ever _ scare me like that again! Are you  _ kidding _ me?” His brow furrows with worry.

Lup looks down and away, nostrils flared with a measured breath. She turns to start the tap, watching bubbles rise for a moment and pointedly  _ not _ watching the frustration on her brother's face.

"What was I supposed to do? We were there to help, Ko. That's what I tried to do."

“I know,” Taako sighs in frustration. “But at some point, like...it’s gotta be their problem. You’re my sister,” he says. None of the folks on this plane—on any plane—are worth Lup’s life to him.

“If you die I’m gonna kick your ass,” he says.

Her eyes flick over to catch the signs, and laughs just a little. "Yeah I know. You know I'd do the same, bro-bro. I just... you know me. And those people... it's not  _ them _ . We can't just expect them to dig themselves out of a problem they didn't even get themselves into."

She sets a pan down, watching it bob and sink into the water before hoping up on the countertop. She'd been expecting a whole lecture, signing his entire wingspan to tell her off. But he's just scared. And so is she. "We're the  _ only ones _ who've seen this thing before, Ko. Don'tcha kinda feel like we're their only hope?"

“I know we are, I know that, but...it’s not our fault! We’re just as much victims here as they are! We shouldn’t have to dig  _ ourselves  _ out, let alone them. Why should we risk our lives if they don’t want our help, just, hell, maybe that’s their own decision, fuck it, they’re grown,” Taako answers. 

He picks up a sponge, then sets it back down. “I know you’d come back, if you died. Like, Mags came back, I get it. But that’s like eleven months without you. I can’t, Lu. You can’t leave me alone with these idiots for eleven months,” he says, the tremble in his voice either from tears or a laugh threatening to spill out, most likely both at once.

"Ko..." She sighs, pulling him into a hug, never mind his soapy hands on her shirt, or hers in his hair. "I'm not going to leave you. I  _ promise _ ." She lets up just enough to hold his gaze steady in her hands. 

"I'm gonna do everything I can to stay with you, okay?  _ Always _ . But these people need our help. They don't get to come back like us. I'll be smarter, I'm sorry, but you know I'm right. We can't just give up on them."

“I know. I know, I know, you’re right. And hey, whatever this fucking thing is it’s no match for both of us. We can do this, we’ve just gotta figure out how,” he answers.

He laughs a little, more at ease with the reassurance. “Pssshhh, we’re all soapy, we better wash these dishes before they’re so gross we have to just throw ‘em outta the ship and start fresh,” he jokes.

She snorts, flicking suds in his face. "You gonna make us more then? Or we gonna be drinking soup from our boots, huh?" She chuckles, picking a plate out of the water and scrubbing it up. Sitting on the counter and washing dishes and bickering-- She's almost able to forget where they are, outside of this kitchen. 

Maybe that's what brings her out to the deck a few hours later; some hope of forgetting. She'd promised Taako she'd sleep eventually--  _ Yes, actual, real sleep, not just a trance, promise, _ and taken a thick blanket and a thicker journal out into the night. Wrapped up snug under the stars, it's almost like their first night here, before shit broke bad. Or the other day, before shit broke worse. 

Or back home, before any of this.

After Barry leaves the medbay, he floats a little, through the lab, trying to find something to focus on. It doesn't work, really, he can't get his mind off the situation and no amount of puzzling through it has presented a solution. Maybe there isn't a solution, just an outcome.

He should check on Lup. The adrenaline from earlier has surely worn off by now. She may need a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on after being held at spearpoint that way.

She isn't in the kitchen, and he doesn't think she's in her room yet.

Barry knows where she'll be. He heads for the deck, taking a deep breath as he steps out into the night and searches for a pair of glowing, mesmerizing eyes.

Lup knows she should have something to put down after the past few days, but how do you force yourself to write "We fucked up. We fucked up and these people might die because of it"? She stares at the busy pages, searching for something to fill an empty space at the corner. She can barely force two words onto the paper.  _ Light found. _

How does Lucretia do it? Write down every awful thing that happens in perfect detail? Lup knows she'd go numb trying. Some things are just too awful. So she sets the book aside, pen still tucked in the pages. She can feel the distress-purr rumbling in her chest, and alone in the dark she lets it happen. No one out here to bother but the birds.

Barry hears shuffling, and in the starlight he can just make out a shape, he thinks. There she is. As he walks closer, though, he thinks he can hear...purring?

He approaches and gently taps her shoulder, trying not to startle her. "Hey. Want company?"

She startles anyways, because who wouldn't, and rubs at her face. "Oh, hey, what's ahh-- what's up?" Her voice is a little off, but as the rumble falls out it rights itself. She pats the space beside her, opening up the cocoon of quilt she's built around herself. "You come to join me?"

“If you want,” Barry says. He sits down in the spot she offers, close to her with the quilt to keep them warm. 

"Course," she chuckles, turning around to face him and pulling her knees up into the little cave their bodies create. 

“You alright after earlier? I don’t think I’d like a spear pointed at my chest, just personally,” he says.

"Yeah-- not the first time, probably not the last. Don't think I'd be saying the same if I were in Mags' position tho, yeesh... He holdin' up alright? Are you?"

Barry hums in thought. “He seems okay considering. Merle seemed worried about him but not  _ real _ worried, you know.”

She nods along. Good thing, if Merle actually acted like it was a thing? That's plenty of reason to worry. But they'd both seemed confident when she last spoke to them, so the outlook couldn't be all that grim. 

Barry pauses. He can’t bullshit her, not after the other night. “I was scared to death out there. If I had said something wrong and they’d hurt you? I’d never have forgiven myself.”

"I mean, I'd come  _ back _ . Taako'd probably murder someone tho." She shrugs, hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I mean, dying's  _ gotta _ suck, no way around that. Not lookin' forward to it. But." Gods, if they were in literally any other position she'd be sent to therapy for thinking about this stuff. Hell, they all definitely could use some. But this is their reality now. No use tip toeing around it. "If it'd save 'em, Barry?..." She doesn't finish the thought.

Oh  _ no??? _ Absolutely not? She can’t just go dying, even temporarily, for anyone and everyone. Barry’s gonna panic, he thinks of what Magnus said, about dying and feeling the craving to consume everything, the void and the darkness. And he was only down a minute or two, who’s to say Davenport will be the same after a year of that?

“No, no, Lup,” he says, almost frantic. “You  _ can’t, _ we need you. It wouldn’t have even saved them, it would’ve been senseless. Please, promise me you’ll be careful?”

He takes a steadying breath. “I get it. But we don’t know what being dead does to you, long term. It’d destroy Taako, and—all of us.”

His words feel just like Taako's, tangible stones tossed for sinking in her gut.  _ Senseless, be careful _ . She's not out there  _ trying _ to get herself killed, that's not the point! Why can no one see that? 

"I  _ know _ ." Lup recoils into the quilt, their accusations and her own guilt chipping away at her to match. She's not doing good enough. People are dying and her friends are disappointed and she can't fix it. She feels close to shaking apart again, and that awful rumble in her chest threatens to follow. "I'll do better."

Shit. Barry feels her shift, hears her tone change. He’s not here to pile on or make her feel bad, he’s just worried. They’ve all had a scare, he always does get overprotective when he’s had a scare.

He pulls the quilt closer on his side. “Sorry,” he says gently. “I’m not trying to make you feel like shit or tell you what to do, I kinda fucked up and did though. I just—I don’t know. I can’t say I’d have done any different than you—except maybe I would’ve hyperventilated—but the idea that more of us might die scares the fuck out of me.” He pauses. “You were amazing out there, pushing that spear aside, all of it.” He fidgets a little.

Lup sighs. She doesn't quite believe him, that he would've done the same, that he's not mad at her. But she also doesn't believe he'd lie to her. 

"Then say  _ that _ ? Just... I know I'm fucking up and believe me, Ko's keeping me well informed of every time I do something stupid so just... I don't need it from everyone else."  _ Amazing? _ No, she was reckless and risking her life and not helping anybody. That wasn't amazing, that was fear.

“I’ll do better,” he says, echoing her words from earlier. He looks up at the stars a moment, trying to get his words in the right order.

“You’re not fucking up, I don’t think. You’re—we’re all doing our best, and sometimes when I...when I care about someone? I don’t mean to, but I get worried and then I get snappy. I shouldn’t—I’m not your dad,” he laughs. “I know you can handle yourself.”

"I can." She doesn't need to prove herself to him, even if she'll always feel the pressure to. But she can understand being a little protective. It'll take some getting used to though, from someone other than Taako. 

She follows his gaze to the stars. "If you get to be worried about us, then you can't fault me for getting worried about them. You get snappy, I get a little reckless. Not an excuse, just... y'know. We'll do better."

She’s absolutely right, he can’t fault her for that. It’s one of the things he loves about her. She cares so much.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s entirely fair. Gods, I hope...I hope we can still pull this off. Get the Light, no one gets hurt, get out of here.” 

Get somewhere safe, so Barry can tell her he loves her without just an unacceptable amount of pressure and potential awkwardness. He doesn’t want to make her feel trapped, she should feel free to walk off and never have to deal with him again if she wants. It should be her choice to hear his confession of love, and her choice whether to entertain the idea of reciprocating it. So not now, not here.

"People are already hurt. And dead. Now it's just... minimising the fallout." She hates herself for even saying it, but it's the truth-- Years on the street have taught her that survival is rarely pretty. You take what you can get, and you learn not to cry over what you had to lose to get it. 

She's still learning that lesson.

She's quiet for a long moment, eyes still reflecting unfamiliar stars. When she does speak, there's less grit in her voice. She just sounds like a tired, scared person. "Hey... Barry? Would you uhh... Just sit with me? For a minute? Maybe we can talk about something other than..." She gestures around them, exhausted. " _ everything _ that's going wrong?"

“Of course.” He says it simply, and he means it unreservedly. He’ll sit out here, with her, wrapped in a quilt and talk all night if it will help. His own fear of the night’s beat back and made small now, cowed by her presence and rendered insignificant by her request.

“Whatcha wanna talk about?” he asks. “Gossip? Ourselves? Hobbies? I personally like long walks on the beach.” He grins, trying to help give their minds the vacation they need from all of this.

She snorts, pulling the corner of the quilt to cover her laugh. "I'm more dinner and a show myself, but I'm sure that was pretty obvious." Gods, if only. If they'd met another time, another place, maybe they could entertain that thought. Honestly she'd given it half a thought back in training. But when two months turned to 5 years turned to who knows how long, that possibility had been turned to ash with their home. Still, a girl could pretend. 

"What about stories? Like we talked about the other day?"  _ When we were both tired, teary messes. _ "Something from home, maybe."

“Hmmm.” Barry thinks. “Ohhh, there’s the one about the sled and my cousins, that one’s good. So the first thing you need to know to make this one make sense is that I was an  _ asshole _ as a kid, well, longer than that, but anyway,” he laughs.

Lup smiles, leans a bit heavier against Barry.  _ An asshole, huh? _ She'd buy it, in the way that he knew his way around a pool table and had definitely commented on at least one occasion about his  _ prior experience with a mullet _ . Everyone had a phase.

“I had this old sled," he continues, "and there was this big old hill that was so steep there was a whole flight of stairs put into one side to get up it to the house. One year there was a huge ice storm, laid down like a solid inch of the stuff. School was canceled for a week. My cousins Sadie and Pete came out to go sledding. They were probably like eleven and nine, I must’ve been twelve, maybe thirteen? Anyhow the road was at the bottom of the hill, with a road sign across from a storm drain. We dragged the sled up and I cannot for the life of me figure out  _ how _ to this day, slip-sliding on all that ice.

“I really wanted to go down first and so did both of them, and so obviously that’s a squabble waiting to happen for kids. So I thought I’d be smart. I told them that because I was older I had harder bones and should check to make sure it was safe and they believed it, which to be fair? Was on them.

“So I got on the sled and went down the hill,  _ fast _ , on a sheet of ice and  _ ramped _ off of the drain and then fell off in the middle of the road, almost hit the sign. A truck almost ran me down. And this is where I’m the asshole. I really wanted to go again so I dragged the sled back up and told Pete and Sadie that I couldn’t tell whether it was safe and needed to check some more, and they didn’t figure it out until my third try,” he chuckles.

"Okay, that one's on you, kid. Almost got  _ hit with a truck _ ? Gods, if that couldn't scare some sense into ya, I don't know..." She laughs along with him, and it's a little easier. 

"Everyone's gotta have a sledding accident like that though, right? Shoot I remember... we musta been what, 15-20-something? So like, little. Ko and I, we lifted this road sign, right, so we could go sledding. Picked a big ol' hill and everything. The whole place was lined with these short little trees, barely taller than us. 

"So we're goin' absolutely buckwild, trying to do spins 'n shit like the menaces we were.  _ Are. _ And I guess I get a little off course, cause I end up going backways  _ straight _ into the trunk of one of these little trees. Swear I've never had the wind knocked outta me like that  _ ever _ . 'Course, as soon as I got breathing again I was right back down the hill." She'd never really looked back on that moment before, never fondly. To a kid, it'd been the scariest feeling, like forgetting how to breathe. But hindsight's 20-20, and she'd survived much worse, so it's something to laugh about tonight. Maybe all of this would be too, someday.

“Gods, I can totally see that. Soon as you get your breath back, right back at it, that’s you all over,” Barry chuckles.

She gives a little shrug, all  _ what can I say? _ That's her, toe to tip-- survive the thing and do it again better.

“Oh, did I tell you about Ms. Bronson? She’s the reason I got into Necro,” Barry continues. “When I was a kid, like a small one, maybe seven? I was in her class and she said any questions? And I asked her what happens when we die. And she gave me some vague kid-appropriate answer, which didn’t work for me, so I kept bugging her til she said she didn’t know. And then I said, ‘well we should pick someone and send ‘em to check it out’ and let me tell you? I have never seen a teacher call a parent in for a meeting that fast, not  _ ever _ . Fortunately my mom knew I wasn’t gonna kill anybody, but I never did shake the curiosity and now here we are,” he laughs.

And then she's chuckling all over at the image of a little baby Barry with a scythe. "Fuckin', grim reaper soundin-ass kid, wanting to  _ send someone to the afterlife? _ Dude, you've  _ gotta _ know that's gonna raise a couple eyebrows. Maybe not when you're seven, but..." Gods, she can only imagine. 

"You ever get to see? I mean, I don't know a lot about Necro, 'specially before we left and all; but we can Blink to the Ethereal, and there was the Expeditions to a few others, right? Did anyone ever figure out getting to the Astral? Like, without dying first."

“Not yet, there were some folks that were close though. Or, hey, I guess Magnus and Davenport, but I suspect that’s not standard exactly. Maybe someday. I think...you know, it helps? It helps to study this stuff because why be afraid of it if you know so much about it, I guess. Kinda gives us the power back, you know.” He shrugs.

"Yeah, doubt that's your typical Astral. Nah, I get it though. Evocation scared the  _ shit _ out of me for a long time. But once you understand it, 's not so bad." She smiles. One of these days they'll get the Light quick. Get to study it, and maybe it'll be less of a terrifying power and more of the tool they initially saw in it. With a lot of luck, maybe this cycle could be it. 

"Would you... Would you teach me some? I mean, I can just like, stay out of your hair and like take notes and stuff but. Especially with how  _ our _ relationship with death has gotten? Might not be a bad idea to understand it a bit better. If it's not too much trouble, 'course."

Barry grins. "I'd love that," he says. "Maybe we can figure out...shit, a lot of stuff. Maybe it'll even give some answers on whatever this whole thing is, even if it is kinda sideways. I mean it may not be the Astral plane as we know it, but maybe there are similarities and we can work from there. Study it, learn it, get the power over it." Figure out how to stop it. Find out whether those it consumed had survived and if so in what shape.

"We can be experts, gods, first mongoose language, now this. We're gonna be the greatest minds on any plane," he jokes.

It sounds so easy when he says it. They'll do some lab work, like back in school, figure out the secrets of the universe. It sounds fun. 

"Hah, yeah, I don't know about that one, but I  _ love _ the confidence, babe. Let's work on gettin' the thing, then we can talk mad science, yeah? But yeah no, I'm so down to learn death magic,  _ hell yeah _ ." She can laugh at it, just a bit, fond memories removing her from the situation at hand in a way that she can almost process the bullshit of it all.

Barry chuckles. "Yeah first things first, absolutely."

He looks up at the sky again. The stars are beautiful, and Barry realizes that he's forgotten to be scared for several minutes now. He looks back to Lup. "You know what I wish I could see? I wish we'd known each other longer back home, I think you and my mom would've gotten along. Neither of you put up with bullshit, just in different ways. She could always tell if I wasn't telling her everything, she'd just look straight through me and go, 'ah,' and then  _ wait _ ." 

The thought of them meeting is bittersweet, wondering whether they'd have met organically or ideally because he'd brought Lup home. There's no point thinking about that now, even though the sweeter half of bittersweet is almost entirely worth it.

Lup very nearly blushes, forced to glance away from his words with a shake of her head. She'd wanted to ask about her, of course, she'd known they were close by the way he talked about her. Maybe this was her chance to venture her curiosity. 

"I'd have loved to meet her. I'm sure she's incredible; raised a good kid after all." She hesitates, watching his eyes, but any more and she'll chicken out. "What was she like? If... if you don't mind my asking, I can, I can shut up-"

Barry does blush at that. Charmer. Flatterer. That’s sweet of her to say. “Mom...her name was Marlena. She really was incredible. She raised me herself, and she just always did whatever she had to to manage. If she had to take me to work, she did that, and if she had to figure out how to stretch a budget she did that. She just always did it. And at the same time, when I was small and anxious and having trouble with some of the bigger kids, she always carved out the time to listen and show me how to keep going no matter how busy she was. She...sorry, gimme a sec,” he says, pausing and breathing deep and slow. “She always told me that I had a gift of wonder and a gift of help, and that if I used them together I’d be unstoppable. I don’t know, I try. I gave her so much trouble, though, I swear, growing up. I always regretted it though, the second I dragged my ass back home and she broke out her ‘where have you been’ and ‘worried sick’ and ‘raised you better’s. She was great, no matter what I always knew she loved me and would put me first,” he says.

Lup's there with a hand on his back when his voice starts to break, tracing little circles with her thumb when he gathers his thoughts. Gods, to have lost her how he did, Lup can't begin to imagine. Someone that cared about you entirely, a mother who did that and  _ well _ , and to not know where or how or  _ why _ . There's not a single part of that that Lup understands. And she can't help but feel she's the lucky one in that. 

She lets his words hang for a while, tries to weave them together into the image of a woman she'd never meet. She knows it will never do her justice. "She sounds like an absolute powerhouse. Like how a mom... should be. I dunno. I think I can see what she meant, about the help and the wonder. She's right. I think you'd make her real proud, Barry." She catches herself tearing up, wipes at her eyes with a hand wrapped in quilt. Then she holds her arms open in invitation, to take or leave if he wants.

Barry swallows hard and lets her wrap him in a hug, hugging back with the two of them warm and cozy in the blanket. He hasn’t been able to really think about his mom or talk about her, not intentionally like this anyway, since the launch. He’s only been able to think of her as though she’s in the next room, even knowing that’s not true. Now though, he can put some of the memories into words, and he can feel the picture of her he’s painted almost living.

“I want to. I want to make her proud,” he says. Tears gather in his eyes. “Sorry, crying on you again, a little,” he chuckles, with a ragged edge to it.

“You know, I think—if she had met you, she’d be so glad I found a friend who’ll kick my ass as needed.” He sniffs, then laughs again. “And then she’d refuse to tell you some secret ingredient for years and it’d turn out to be extra garlic or something. She trolled our neighbor for  _ so long _ this one time, always just gave them this slow, playful smile and wouldn’t say. It was great, she had me in on it, too,” he says, swiping at a tear and laughing again.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She can feel her sleeve soaking through and the rumble of his voice, but Lup doesn’t let go. And she laughs at the thought of the little grifts Marlena’d gotten her boy in on. And she keeps not letting go.

Lup is a good place for these memories, Barry decides. And she gives the best hugs and she’s always there. And Barry loves her, even if he can’t say it yet. So for now, he hugs back and huddles under the blankets and lets himself feel, sad because he misses his mom, happy because she was so amazing, safe and soothed because Lup is here.

And as much as she wishes she had met Marlena for real, on better terms than a series of stories told on the deck of a refugee starship, Lup’s glad that those stories are being told. There’s hundreds, thousands,  _ millions _ of people whose stories would never be passed on. She owes it to them to listen to the ones that can. She owes it to Barry to remember this story in particular.

“She sounds like a riot. I see where you get your humour.” She gives his shoulders a proper squeeze before pulling back. “And I swear to her I’ll kick your ass if ya need it.”

Barry chuckles at that, still a little sniffly, and wipes at his eyes. “Good, gods know I do sometimes,” he says. He looks at Lup a minute, only able to see her vague shape under the quilt and her eyes in the dark.

“Your turn for a story? Unless you wanna go in, I’m fine either way,” he says.

Lup lets her hands fall from his shoulders, giving him a bit more room to breathe. "I mean, yeah, sure, I'm an open book. What uhh-- Anything in particular? We didn't... We had an aunt for a while, growing up? Uhh plenty of shenanigans in school-- Gods the goofs I pulled on some of the fools Ko brought home? But that's my job, right? 'S what siblings are for." She shakes her head thinking back. 

"There was this... this fancy business-type?  _ Very _ pretty, cleaned up real nice, 'course Ko'd be into him. But I dunno, somethin' about him skeeved me, so I did what any sister would do. Put one a those little fire-cracker runes in his loafers. The absolute  _ indignation _ on his face- hah!" She snorts, wide eyes screwing shut. "He- hah- he was fine, totes, just scared shitless. I was right, of course, he was a prick. But." She shrugs.

Barry laughs. That’s exactly the kind of prank he’d expect, and her intuition was dead on. “Gods, I can totally see it all! Firecracker runes...shit, lucky I trust you not to take me snipe hunting out here, at least not at night, you prankster,” he laughs.

"Lucky you don't deserve the pranks! Least not  _ those _ kinds. Say... how attached are you to that hair colour?..." She laughs,  _ totally not _ wondering at how she'd get Taako the ingredients to transmute a dye. Just something temporary, of course. It'd be funny, natch, but his sandy brown suits him well, she thinks.

Barry snorts, then laughs harder. “Okay whatever happens, it can’t be green, I’m never going back! I looked like a big boy-shaped highlighter!” he answers.

"Green it is--  _ Wait. _ Barry  **_what_ ** ?" She full on cackles, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Listen I've-- I've had some  _ looks _ in my days but-  _ snrk _ \- I can't  _ imagine _ ... Gods, now I have to just to get a picture of that!"

He wheezes slightly, trying to recover. “It wasn’t my idea!” he protests. “It was a dare! I was like sixteen, and—gods, it seemed so important at the time, fuck, I was playing truth or dare and I  _ knew _ , just  _ knew _ she was gonna ask if I liked anyone and I did and she was  _ right there _ , it was  _ her question _ , so green hair it was. We didn’t play easy mode,” he says. “Gods, someone should’ve probably been supervising us, that could’ve been so much worse, but no way in hell was I backing down.” The memory is full of laughter and awkwardness and embarrassment, like being a kid all over again.

Of course, it was a silly thought that he'd had the same run in with the Scene Phase™️ that she'd had, much more understandable that'd it'd been a dare. Maybe she'll just keep that secret a little longer.

"Okay but, what happened with the crush? Did you tell them? C'mon, I need the deets, B!" She snuggles in tighter, shoving her chin in her hands in her best gossip-receiving posture. "They had to find out eventually, right?"

“I couldn’t! I couldn’t just say I liked her with my entire mouth, are you kidding? I’d sooner die? So she was like ‘I dare you to dye your hair green’ and I said, and I shit you not, this is a quote, ‘ _ cool beans _ ’ and then just like, took my shirt off to get the whole process started. And then after a solid  _ month _ I found out she wasn’t into boys at all,” Barry recalled. Lup is so cute wanting to get the dirt. He’d do a lot more than dye his hair to please her.

He thinks on her last question. “I don’t actually know whether anyone ever found out,” he says. “Come to think of it I may have just kept that all to myself ‘til now.”

Lup's eyes are as wide as her open grin, and once he's said his piece she lets out a laughing breath. " _ No way. _ Mr. Heart-on-His-Sleeve Bluejeans, straight up  _ not telling her _ ?? I can't believe you've ever kept a feeling to yourself. You're so... You just like... I dunno, you just seem like such a... loverboy." She snorts, waggling an eyebrow she doubts he can see. She's seen him get passionate, talking about the people he's cared for and the things he's cared about. He just  _ loves _ so hard. 

But that's a weird thing to say outright to a colleague-friend, so instead she gives him a friendly elbow to the arm. "You're a softie.  _ Who dyed his hair green for a secret crush, I'm dying here Barold _ .  _ Cool beans _ ??? Hah- you never cease to surprise."

He bursts into a short laugh. "What, I suppose you'd have told? Probably, would've, actually, just been like 'hey, I really like you'," he teases. She probably would, too. Lup goes after what she wants. His feelings are straightforward, just love?  _ yes _ , and her actions are straightforward.

"Hey-- Okay... yeah,  _ okay _ , maybe. I dunno?" She shakes her head, somewhere between flattered and embarrassed. "I mean, I'd like to think so? But... Love's weird, crushes are  _ weird _ , and like... It always depends on so much? I've got the worst habit of falling for the wrong people at the  _ worst _ times," she laughs. And she gets how he'd get there, totally. A spitfire, absolutely, that tracks. But Lup is just as much a pining fool as the next elf. Love has that effect on everyone, right? 

"Oof, I feel that," he agrees. "Usually if it looks like anything's out of place I won't tell, but that doesn't stop the feeling. It was fine, though, just a crush, at that age I had a ton of them, you know how it goes," he says. "None of them ever did pan out and turn out to be the real thing though."

"Can't stop a feeling, damn right. But like... the more the merrier, right? Feelings, I mean. Not to yuck anyone's yum." She chuckles, letting her head fall to her shoulder. It's nice, shooting the shit, telling stories, maybe a little dive into mid-night philosophies of love and death and shit. It's nice to see all those things in a less dire light. 

Her face softens, and she leans against her knee, closing the woven shield around them. A kind of magic circle to protect against the world. "Isn't  _ any _ of it the real thing? I mean, if you  _ care  _ for someone, like...  _ love _ someone? That's real of its own right. Plus, you're what, forty? You're practically a  _ baby _ , you've got time." A glowing eye winks in the dark, before both blink out with her laugh.

He ponders her words a moment. "I guess it is all real. Even if it's temporary, it  _ is _ and it  _ matters _ . I guess...like  _ we _ don't last forever, all that matters is choosing to spend that time with others." He smirks a little. "You know forty's half my lifespan, right? I'll be  _ old _ in like five minutes," he teases.

Lup rolls her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. You're old, but like. A baby. An old baby." She snorts. "You know I'm like. Thrice your age, right? You wanna talk about  _ old _ , you don't know the half of it!"

"Gotta love those feelings. They're not easy, but they're kinda worth it, I think. Guess they're what make us people? I don't know, I'm glad to have 'em, anyway. Glad to talk about 'em at night on the deck with an old elven lady," he teases. "Just me, the old baby, and you, one foot in the rest home, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely hard. But definitely worth it." If lousy feelings kept her protecting her friends, she could deal. Maybe she could find a way to get that care across to the people of Dusk, prove to them somehow that they  _ care _ . That that's what all of this struggle is about. It's a thought, at least. 

"I think this old elf should get to sleepin'. I'm pretty sure it's past old-man-baby bed time anyways." She laughs and scoops up her journal, pulling her end of the blanket up as she stands. "Thanks for coming out here, though. 'S nice to just talk sometimes."

"Yeah, I should sleep too," he agrees with a laugh. He stands up, too, and drapes his end of the blanket around her shoulder. It's hard to see where he's going. Out of habit, he reaches for Lup's elbow.

"I'm, uh, you know I'm always glad to just talk? It helps," he says. It helps everything not feel quite so much like getting dick-slapped by the universe. Like maybe he and Lup are just two people, who could give it a shot and maybe wind up happy. Maybe they are, though? Maybe it doesn't matter what's outside the two of them. Maybe they could give it a shot. Maybe someday, if Barry can ever manage to bring it up.

That won't be tonight, though. Tonight he'll slip his hand into her elbow and follow her inside, where there's safety and light and warmth, and try to let the thought of her warm his cold bed. And tomorrow he'll wake up and try anything and everything to get the Light and save this plane from being consumed. And maybe he'll succeed, or maybe he'll fail. But he has his gifts of wonder and help, and he's not alone, and the trying will have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Y'all, please, I am begging these fools to just say words to each other with their mouths!  
> SA: Oops, all emotions! Just not *those* emotions. Cause that'd be... idk vulnerable or smth.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barold makes a splash!

#  Chapter 12

Heavy chains groan in protest to the weight they carry as Magnus connects with the punching bag for the umpteenth time. Lup sits by, drowning exhaustion with her water bottle. Their routine is standard, the same that the pair have held more days than not since that first week of flight training. But their training is taking a heftier toll today. 

"Alright, alright, spar then breakfast? Ko's got the classics going, so I hear." She heaves herself to two feet, refastening her gloves with a grin. 

"Hell yeah, show me what ya got, Lu."

\---

The pair arrive early, even accounting for a shower. Lup plunks down into a chair, immediately resting her forehead on an arm. Her free hand hops a sign against the table, simultaneously reaching for the  _ Mug _ for which it asks.

Barry stifles a yawn. It feels like the mornings are getting earlier, even though that can't possibly be true. He walks through the door for breakfast just in time to see Lup pull a mug of coffee in toward herself from where Taako has set it.

"Morn--" he tries, ending in another yawn. He drags himself over to pour a cup of coffee, then back to the table. Gods, Lup's all but passed out on the table. If there wasn't work to do he'd just drape a blanket around her and let her stay. He sits down, then reaches over and gives her arm a light poke. "Hey, you want that intravenously? You look too tired to drink it," he says, his tone trying for teasing but probably closer to foolishness.

She blinks up with a now classic  _ mrrp? _ , looking first to the mug, then following the poke up to Barry. "Can ya do that? 'D save me the work." She pulls the mug in and the heat of it is almost enough to jostle her, but no such luck. 

Taako sets out a plate of bacon, transmuted of course. Since the village became hostile, most everything that wasn't tasting vaguely of persimmon at one point had been. They'd made the mistake, no,  _ choice _ , to share some of their stores from the last plane with the locals, eager to trade something new and exciting for their agreement to help find the Light. Little good that had done them. So for the time being, they were left with faux-everything, and a lot of juice. 

" _ You want the milk? Is transmuted dairy okay? _ " Her signs are slow, sleepy, but she smiles at the joke regardless, sliding the jug across the counter. She plucks a particularly crispy looking piece of fake bacon (fakon?) and dunks it in her coffee before taking a bite. At least one of those things was still real.

He chuckles as he watches her dunk the bacon. That's cute, his brain supplies. She's cute and if he wasn't so dang tired and everything wasn't awful he'd--gods, what even, take them out on a picnic or something. Maybe the next plane will have not just coffee but coffee  _ shops _ , you know it can mean anything to get coffee together--

He shakes his head slightly. Question. Right. Uhhh--"no, thanks, I'm good, I always have it like this," he answers. "You been out training with Mags?"

Lup signs an affirmative whilst downing her coffee. What she wouldn’t give for one of those froofroo drinks from the Selkie’s back home. A fancy mocha with all the fixings and  _ actual _ chocolate. A  _ croissant? _ .

But sustenance is sustenance, and they’ve at least got something. Which is more than she could’ve said for herself at some point or another.

She's fresh from the shower, and Barry almost thinks he can smell the clean scent of soap and shampoo. That's so nice, just those smells, just like the night he braided her hair in the village. Gods _ damn _ he'd like to braid her hair again, maybe rub the knots out of her shoulders, oh fuck, that'd be nice, she might make pleased little noises as he--

Barry jerks back to the present. The days since the villagers ran them off had been hell for focus, worse and worse every day it seemed. It seemed folks couldn't live on persimmons transmuted a hundred different ways, not healthily, anyway. What Barry wouldn't give for a burger, shit, or a steak. The persimmons were keeping souls in bodies, though, and Barry was grateful for them.

Lup catches Barry shaking his head, like he’d been doing the night before too— the tell tale sign his focus was fading. She’d seen it in the lab, after a late night of tests, but rarely this early. “ _ You good? _ ”

“Good, uh, yeah. Just a little tired I guess,” he answers. It’s the least worrisome answer, and only half a lie: tired, yes, but not  _ just _ .

He wrenches his focus back to her. “You going out foraging later? Maybe see if there’s anything else, there’s gotta be something,” he says. Anything else edible that wasn’t a giant persimmon, please,  _ gods _ .

It’s a good idea. Not what she’d planned, but not that she’d really  _ had _ a plan for the day. A bit of a hike would do her some good, and finding something else to eat would do them all well. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. Like a day trip, or? I mean I’m always game for a camp out, but..”  _ But I’m not gonna force that on you _ ; the unspoken clause is easy enough to interpret.

“We could...hmmm.” Barry tried to think through whether he can deal with camping out. Ah, fuck it, the choice is between his room (dark, comfortable but empty bed) and outdoors (also dark, grass or bedroll, certain company and potential for totally platonic snuggling).

Absolutely, totally platonic snuggling, of course.

“Maybe if we go out farther we’ll find other stuff, maybe even other, friendlier folks? These can’t be the only people anywhere, that just doesn’t make sense,” Barry answers, thinking out loud. “We could go out, maybe south? Try there, just like a day out and then back. I’d hate for us to miss something turning around midday.”

She nods. "Yeah, okay. I'm down. Anybody else wanna..." Lup gauges the room; a nearly snoozing Taako, head propped up on a fist, nearly falling into Magnus's plate of fake eggs (feggs?), who doesn't seem to take notice. Yeah, maybe making the rest of them tag along wasn't a great idea. "--ehh, I'll Send if we find anything. I'm gonna put on another pot of coffee." 

\---

Their packing isn't as hurried this time around-- the only clock they're racing against is their health-- so Lup takes a moment to dig around for a pack of playing cards, and to pack a quilt and an actual bedroll. She runs through a mental checklist: underclothes, iodine, journal, knife. The necessities. 

"Ready, old man?" She knocks at his room with a chuckle and an extra thermos of coffee for the road. "Sun's comin' up, we wanna catch as much daylight as we can." There's plenty of components for Tiny Hut-ing later, but the more ground they cover the better potential for finding something. Anything. Maybe if she lights a torch Barry'll hike a bit of the night with her too.

Barry double checks his pack: bedroll, check; change of clothes, check. He jams an extra notebook in, just in case, and a few persimmons. Better than nothing.

He opens the door to Lup’s knock. “Ready,” he answers. “‘Old man’ is rich coming from such an old lady, though. I’m young enough to do your yardwork,” he teases. He slings his pack over his shoulder. “Alrighty, let’s find us some food.”

"Is that any way to speak to your elders?" she snorts, swatting him. "I oughta have you grounded." She passes him a coffee, and calls out to (a hopefully coherent) Taako as they pass his room. "Yo Dingus, if we're not back the night after next, it's just persimmons all the way down and we died of boredom." 

"If you don't Send by morning I'm stealing that top with the collar!" 

"Damn, guess we better hurry." She chuckles as the door hisses shut behind them, but pauses for a thought. "He knows better than to touch that one. Right?"

Daylight's just breaking, and in the foggy faux-morning it's actually really beautiful. Pinks and oranges are a strange look on the cool ethereal of the foliage, and everything looks a bit less dire. Not great-- no parties here-- but it's more bittersweet than manhunt. Lup cracks open her thermos, letting the cool air whisk away the steam a bit before actually taking a drink. In a different world, they'd just be taking a morning stroll through early fall, as colleagues. Friends. Partners, for research. Obviously. 

Luckily the thermos catches most of the grin the thought brings on.

Barry ambles alongside Lup, and you know? It’s not the picnic he thought of before, or the casual coffee date, but it’s  _ comfortable _ between them. It’s simple, walking through a beautiful world. Maybe it’s still beautiful even when he can’t see it in the dark.

The air has a specific nip to it, not cold or even really chilly, but back home it would’ve been that nip that heralded the rituals of fall: harvest in the country, back to school in the towns, and soon woodsmoke rising from chimneys to keep the cold at bay. For Barry, the fall has long seemed like a door opening, rather than an ending. Summer drawing to a close means a time of abundance, both of food and of knowledge.

And it’s an amazing time to walk easily alongside the woman you love and then absolutely 100% chicken out of telling her.

As the two head south, leaving the ship behind them, Barry can hear birds sing. He’d never believe this place held such challenges, to look at it like this. He turns to Lup. “You know, if we find something good, we should maybe see if there’s a good place nearby to set the ship down. Load up, come back, we can lay in supplies and then deal with trying to get the Light back,” he says. “Like we could carry them, too, but that could be easier.”

It would be easier; bring the ship up and down instead of hiking supplies both ways. But with the tension between them and the locals, who have never seen an airship, would it be taken as aggression? Lup wishes they didn’t have to worry about these things, but the worlds don’t always work in one’s favour. 

“Depending on what we find, it’s worth thinking about, definitely. Probably best to warn the village, though— if they’ll give us the time of day...” 

Though as far as they know, they’re the first ones to travel this path; their walk seems fairly simple. Here they’re met with trees at first, which give way for the time being to sprawling fields of grass and flowers. The fog ridden horizon spells more woods before dark, but for now they’ve got a view of the clouds. So long as it keeps the world from looking treacherous, Lup is happy to see the sky.

Barry considers this. He wishes he knew what to do about the village, he wishes any of them knew. It's not even clear who the new Resolver is. All the crew knows is that they aren't allowed past a point Barry thinks of as a sort of city limits, and that the villagers are willing to defend that point with violence.

"You're probably right, they kinda act like they'd love to see us go but might not take kindly to us coming  _ back, _ " he agrees.

They do need to stay close, though. The Light is somewhere, most likely in the village, most likely with Jean--is Jean the new Resolver? Possible, Barry wouldn't be surprised--and they need to recover it in something like ten months and change.

The pair walks through open fields, wildflowers the size of saucers and tall grass. It reminds Barry of home; when he was tiny everything there seemed big like this anyhow, even at normal size. The pang of sadness that thought brings is dulled by the memory of Lup's words--they have to keep this world from being consumed too. They just have to do it. He gives himself a little shake and keeps on.

"If we find tree nuts? I will lose my entire mind, I'd do some super morally grey stuff for some almonds right now," he says.

"Eugh,  _ same _ . Shit that’d give us... flour, milk? Gods what I wouldn’t do for some actual  _ physical _ protein.” She exaggerates an explicit sound, with a smirk at Barry. They’ve all been feeling it; transmuted persimmons can only do so much. Taako’s top of his class, natch, but building so many complete proteins, day after day? It’s not sustainable, and they all know it.

Lup lets her hands trail the tall grass, letting, no, willing her mind into distraction. There’s tiny blooms, comparable to baby’s breath on a larger scale, that offer long enough stems and small enough flowers for her to twist together. Over, under, through a loop, just like she wove through her brothers hair before fancy events or during lazy summer days. The familiar motion brings a little smile to her face, and soon enough she’s made a chain fit to set on her head. But instead she pauses just enough for Barry to pass her, and presses up on her toes to set it onto his head before plucking stems for another.

Barry laughs a little as Lup settles the flower crown into place on his head. "For me? How do I look?" he asks lightly.

This is delightful, the little gesture in the midst of this chaotic year...well, it's worth it. Soft things like flowers in your hair and the breeze on your face and a heart full of love for a beautiful girl, it's worth it all.

"Guess I'm king now, gonna need a queen," he teases. "I can't rule these flowers alone."

She laughs, pulling another flower from the brush. "I'm working on it!  _ Tsk _ , no patience with you." She shakes her head, false exasperation and true content finding their place in her laugh. If only this could be their year. Not even their forever, that's too much to ask from fate. Just one year, one cycle in this never-ending story that was calm and kind. She doesn't even wish abundance, though it would be a gift she would cherish; no, just a year without fighting with and for and against. A world with  _ enough _ , in every possible sense. 

A final flower fits into place, and Lup settles her crown on her head. It sits low in comparison to Barry's, little white blossoms across her brow. "How do I look?"

She's beautiful. And she did ask.

Barry sweeps into a bow, grinning from ear to ear and tilting his head back to keep the crown on his head. "A stunning vision, my queen," he says, straightening back up again. "These blooms are a lovely frame for your beauty."

Alright, maybe that was...just a little much...but she did ask! Barry feels valid to tell her the truth as he sees it. He doesn't need to get into how her laugh makes him feel like everyone should celebrate, and for sure not some of his more secret thoughts which have only to do with bodies and sweat and heat and friction. At least not today he doesn't. Today, she's queen of the flowers, and they're a matched pair.

Lup snorts, dropping into an exaggerated curtsy in return. "Why  _ thank you _ , my king. I do aim to please." She swings her pack around, pulling out that bulging journal and flipping to the first page with room. One flower is sacrificed from her crown, gingerly settled in the blank space and pressed to hold between the pages. At least she can have a keepsake of this moment when they weren't fighting for their lives. 

The day is calm, the fields passing easily under their feet. A small flock of birds, massive and beautiful, are spooked from a tree, and Lup wonders if they have anything on the ship to hunt game. No one aboard really uses a bow; some of them have magic, sure, but anything that would serve that purpose? It's worth pondering, perhaps bringing up to the group. If this scouting mission is for naught. 

Night begins to fall before they can reach the edge of the trees, and Lup slows her pace to stick close to Barry. Whenever he needs her to be his eyes, she's there. And when the sun is a fleeting memory, the high boughs of the forest arch over them. They don't bear fruit; the plains proved nothing more than grass and flowers. Maybe the wood will have some sort of... mushroom? They'll have to bring back samples of foliage for Merle-- maybe something of that is edible. A salad is never high on her list of Ideal Foods, but that list is currently being rearranged.

As the two continue on, Barry can’t keep the smile from his face. The two of them, tramping through fields and into the woods as the sun goes down, decked out in flowers and happy. They are happy, he realizes, despite the hardship and hostility of this plane. They’re suspended in this moment like a fairytale, but that’s not what makes him smile.

She chose to remember it.

People are small, finite. Their space is limited; their memories, short; their time, precious. And Lup pressed a flower from today to preserve it, like it was important to her.

Barry feels warm as that idea sits within him, carrying it all the way down as his foot hits a muddy patch, tumbling him down the bank and straight into the stream with a startled yelp and a resounding splash.

Lup feels the splash against her legs, and she turns to find the bank of the stream empty. When she finally finds the motion in the dark, Barry's head is already disappearing under the water, the ring of flowers floating off downstream. It's not terribly deep looking, not quite as raging as a river, but she only pauses a moment in that thought before realising  _ Barry doesn't swim _ . 

_ Shit _ .

For Barry, time moves both impossibly fast and impossibly slowly as the water closes over his head with barely enough time for a gulp of air. He can’t swim, he can’t tell how deep it is or where  _ up _ is. How long can a person hold their breath? He doesn’t have enough brain power to pull out that information, but he’s about to find out.

Lup drops her pack and jacket, searching the surface for another ripple and diving for it. There's so much less light under the water, but she only needs to see the contrast of his red jacket to find him struggling to right himself. It's a struggle in itself to hook her arms under his and steady the whole situation enough to push off the stream bed and heave them both up towards the surface. Something solid catches her shoulder and she grabs hold of what proves to be a massive tangle of tree roots. The water is  _ frigid _ , a fact she only comes to realise from the stiff way her fingers threaten to slip from the bark. But she holds fast, both to the roots and to Barry.

Barry spins, disoriented, no ground or sky to give him bearings, and reaches for something, anything to cling to. He feels arms, hooked under his, guiding him up again to the surface. Lup’s here. She’s got him, holding him with his head above water. He grabs onto her arm, helping her hold him as she pulls them back to solid ground. She’s his lifeline, and Barry doesn’t let go, gulping in air as they clamber back out of the water.

As soon as she can kneel with her head above water Lup drags them to shore, wiping muddy water from her eyes. The arm still under his tells her he's breathing, and that alone allows her to catch her breath.

“Shit,” he gasps after a minute. He’s cold and soaked through, but nothing hurts beyond a bruise or two and he can  _ breathe. _ “You saved me.”

"What was I supposed to... fuckin'.... leave ya there?" She forces deep breaths between laughing her way out of survival mode. "Don't make... Don't make me do it again though. We should... camp. Get ya warm." Night’s already fallen, and what had been comfortable walking weather could turn dangerous when combined with damp and dark. 

“Thanks, I—that scared the shit out of me.” Barry hauls himself up off the ground, searching around with his hands near where he fell. He finds his glasses, seemingly no worse for having flown off his face as he fell, then spends several more minutes hunting down his pack, spilled over on the bank.

"Me too. I should've had an eye out, I'm sorry." Lup finds her things several paces away, and it's as good a place as any. A few fallen branches and handfuls of leaves will keep a fire going for a decent while, and luckily for them the woods are full of sticks. It takes a few shivering snaps of her fingers for Lup to ignite their makeshift fire pit, but once she feels heat on her face she can sit and stop  _ do _ ing. Well, almost. 

"Hey, strip." She's already tugging off her shoes, pouring out a puddle onto the grass behind her. "Get into something dry, I can't pull your butt out of hypothermia." Her boots go right next to the fire, and her pants and shirt follow, each wrung out into the grass. The heat from the fire already reaches her skin easier, and she gives herself a minute to just dry off before pulling dry clothes from her pack.

Barry brings his pack back over just in time to hear her command and see her silhouette in the firelight. He stops in his tracks.

Of course they need to change? Of course? And this is okay, she knows he’s here and can see her. She isn’t showing off or making an offer, but she isn’t making an effort to hide herself behind a tree or anything.

Barry blushes furiously and starts to pull off his shoes. It’s just like before, it’s just her doing what she does and permitting him to be there, but gods he’s  _ wondered _ what she looks like under clothes, and the answer only confirms her beauty.

She does offer Barry the privacy of turning around, also in part to wiggle out of her soaked underthings. Gods, a wet bra will never be comfortable, huh? A wave of Prestidigitation means she's dry enough to tug on clothes without too much resistance, but the fire alone maintains the job of warming them up. She makes a show of shielding her eyes once she's decent, pointing another Presto Dry-o in the general direction of Barry. "Did I get it?" She wrings out her remaining items, lining them all up next to the fire with a carefully controlled gaze. 

She makes a point to not look at the jeans tossed next to her clothes. Or the boxers that follow. This is for survival, not sexy-fun-times. In another life though...

Setting up a Tiny Hut offers some distraction. The ritual has been well practiced in their years plane-hopping, and it's only a few minutes before the heat of their little fire is trapped in its space. Lup keeps her eyes low, even as the walls fade into existence and she's left quietly wringing out her hair.

Barry focuses on his clothes, and smiles as her spell dries him. “You got it!” he confirms.

“It’s really okay, I shoulda been more careful. I’m alright,” Barry assures her. He wrings his clothes out and sets them to dry near the fire, winding up barefoot and cross-legged as Lup finishes the Hut and tends to her hair.

  
  


Barry notices her gaze on the ground, and that won’t really do, she won’t be able to see his lips? He doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable. “Hey,” he says, nudging her knee gently. “It’s all clear, clothes are on and anyway...well, I’m comfy if you are. You all good? No worse for heroics?”

She puts a hand up, peeking through her fingers with a grin. "I'll live, but you owe me some dang body heat after that dip,  _ yeesh _ . I can't be the only one feeling like a wet dog, right?" She laughs and flings her hair to one side, doing her damnedest to get it close enough to the fire to dry out without scorching. 

"Are you okay, though? Hurt anywhere?" Her joking smile falters, pulled back to the times her carelessness had gotten Taako and her in almost more trouble than they could get out of. Anything could happen, of course, but when anything could  _ kill _ you, it's her job to make sure it doesn't. This time, her job was watching; and she'd borked it. "I'm really sorry, and uhh... totally joking about owing me. Least I could do for.. y'know."

“Couple bumps and scrapes, nothing to worry about. Just slid on a muddy spot is all, coulda happened to anyone,” he answers.

He sees her smile waver in the firelight, and oh no? This isn’t her fault, it was an accident, she saved him! He gives her a bashful grin. “I’m kinda still just impressed by your prowess at Barry fishing, you caught a big one,” he teases. 

That gets a laugh out of her, the little shake of her head sending a few rogue flicks of water at her face. "That I did. If we find some actual fish I'll have to try my hand."

“We, uh—that’s valid, though, we should stay warm?” Barry muses. “We’ve got the Hut and the fire and bedrolls but I’m perfectly good with, uh—shit, what I mean is, I’m good with...close? If you are.”

His stutter has her second guessing though, "We don't... have to? I just thought-- I mean with-- cause the water's cold and... I--ahh-- _ ha tchii _ "  _ Gods dammit. _ "If you don't want to though, I mean I'm fine if you're fine..."

Wait, no, shit, this is going in the wrong direction. Barry tries again. “No, I—I do want to? But, ah fuck,” he says. “I wanna sleep close because it’s dark and cold and I slept better last time we camped out than usual but we did both just get naked for a minute and that’s fine but I didn’t want it to seem like I was just trying to...you know, anyway, close is good by me,” he blurts. He chuckles nervously. Maybe more words will be less awkward, but probably not, anyway, huh?

"Ohh, uhh... no yeah. Okay. Good, that's-- yeah." Gods, it's impossible to not be weird about it, but that part of her that's still operating on years of survival tactics  _ needs _ him close. Having someone sleep at her back was her norm for decades; close meant warm and safe and  _ alive _ . Close made sure she felt Taako wake up and let her rest knowing she wasn't alone. A big part of her needed that kind of assurance after watching Barry nearly drown on her watch. And he wants that too, it seems, so she'll take it.

They put some water on to boil, a few drops of iodine to be safe. It's no fancy bedtime tea, but something warm in her belly feels a lot better than nothing. Lup slices up some fruit (also better than nothing, but only marginally), and relinquishes her pack so Barry can set up some form of sleeping arrangement. It's a familiar ritual, more so for her, and she's infinitely grateful for the routine to contrast the... fishing expedition.

As they eat together, as close to normal as it gets these days, Barry turns their conversation over in the back of his mind. Gods, it’s hard, sometimes, needing comfort but not wanting to impose or cross a boundary. And talking is easy, but communication is hard. He can try, though, and it’s worked out for now.

He lays out the bedrolls, right up next to each other, enough space to meet in the middle or to roll and get a little elbow room. It’ll be nice having the warmth and weight of the bedrolls, still nicer having each other. Barry decides that he’s enthusiastically good with that. They’re adults, they can sleep where they like and they’ve agreed that here, next to each other, is where they like. It’s not like he’s gonna try anything... it’s not like he’d stop her if she did, though.

He looks up. “Looks comfy, as bedrolls go,” he says lightly.

Lup dims the dome to  _ not offensive but not pitch black _ , and snuffs the fire into charcoal with a quick motion. Best not to leave open flames next to sleeping bodies. "Yeah, looks good. I uhh, remembered an alarm this time," she chuckles, "but if you're uhh, more comfortable taking watches I'll go first. Either way, I've got the Hut." 

Clothes are set out, beds are established-- for having a jaunt in the river not a few hours earlier, they've managed a decent camp. If they actually find some food after all this, she might consider the trip a success. All things considered. 

She settles into bed furthest from the fire, starting through the motions of her routine; stretching out tired limbs and wrestling her hair out of the way. Actual sleep would be a godssend tonight, and she does her best to ignore how much sleeping next to somebody is, too.

Barry yawns--falling into a river will do that to a guy--and crawls into bed. "I think we'll be okay, long as you've got the Hut. Thanks for, uh, y'know, keeping the light," he says.

"No problem, doesn't bother me." She tucks the alarm under her bedroll, all set to buzz her awake well before the Hut falls. Hopefully it wouldn't rouse Barry; Taako'd rarely heard it, but maybe he's just gotten used to it.

Without the heat of a fire on her, the space is noticeably colder. Probably not dangerous, but she'd be lying to say she didn't like the idea of snuggling in close. So she lets herself-- he'd offered after all-- tucking her hands up under her chin, breath warming up the space left between their faces. She can feel his breath too, and his words, and that alone feels safer.

Barry's silent for a long moment, laying on his back and looking up at the sky. "If you need me to scoot or anything just shove me a little, or if you get cold I'm happy to sleep cozy too," he says. It's weird trying to let her know that he's more than happy to let this turn into anything she'd like without actually laying out what some of the more fun options are.

"Same here, just give me a nudge. Or don't, y'know..." She tugs her blanket up around her shoulders, now just a pouf of curls and shining eyes. "G'night Barry."

"Night, Lup--"  ~~ I love you ~~ "--sleep well."

Barry smiles and curls up, cozy and snug next to Lup. This feels right. He can relax, everything's fine.

He closes his eyes. Most folks would count sheep, but Barry does something his mom taught him when he was a kid. When he was anxious and couldn't sleep, she always told him to imagine all of the ways the world could go right for him. Would he get a good job? Find someone nice? Learn something new? Barry would play each idea out in vivid detail.

Tonight, Lup stars in every one, her laugh and her presence lighting up each fantasy--plenty of food, finding a way out of this nightmare, a house, travel, little domestic moments, dancing--until Barry falls asleep.

Sleep takes its time finding Lup, pulling her in and out of hazy dreams-- one moment she's swimming through the sky above a sea of treetops, chasing something just out of reach, the next she's falling, sinking,  _ drowning _ , all with the insatiable need to  _ find it and fix it _ , whatever it is. She reaches, finds something solid in the water that feels more like quicksand, and holds tight. The scene changes again, something grabbing her and shaking, they're on the ship and someone's yelling and her  _ hands... _

Lup wakes with a start to the alarm buzzing softly under her, one hand clenching her pillow and the other arm wrapped over Barry's middle. 

Barry blinks half-awake as Lup gets up. "Wha--?" Is everything okay? She's just recasting the Hut, it's okay. So far his sleep has been deep and satisfying, soothing the bone-deep weariness he'd been carrying.

_ "Shit _ ..." She untangles her legs from the blanket, feeling around in the dark to find and reset the alarm. The Hut, reset the Hut,  _ come on, spell components... _ The Hut comes down, but is quickly and quietly reset, and Lup pads back to bed in her best approximation of silence.

He settles back in as she comes back to bed, and holds out an arm in invitation. "C'mere 'n sleep? It's all good," he says with a yawn.

_ Ahh beans. _ She obliges, offers an apologetic smile she hopes he can make out and settles in next to him. He looks so sleepy, far too comfortable for bedrolls in the woods. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake ya. You can sleep; the Hut should be good til it's light out." 

Back under warm covers, it's not so difficult to relax. Maybe she woke him up a bit, but he's alive and sleepy and offering to hold her and that's okay. They deserve to survive the days and take what little solace they can at night. So if  ~~ soft, warm, safe ~~ Barry wants to snuggle for a night, and if she wants to too, no one could convince her there's any harm in that. And if he snores a little, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, and if that makes her feel all the more safe? Then that's cool, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: It's like I always say, when in doubt, more words maybe!  
> SA: And platonic cuddling! Totally, 100%, Just Platonic!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survival is paramount, and crucial to that is keeping up morale.
> 
> It's always easier with a survival buddy!

The next time Barry wakes, the sun's beginning to peek over the horizon.

And Lup is nestled contentedly into his shoulder, warm and cozy, an occasional soft snore breaking the early morning stillness.

Barry smiles. He vaguely remembers the Hut coming down and her resetting it, and him wanting to hold her. Looks like sleepy Barry is far less inhibited than fully awake Barry. A few memories of younger days and other things done with other folks while sleepy-- cuddling close, sleepy little kisses, hands tangled in hair-- float through his mind. _Ain't that always the way,_ he thinks.

He lies still for a bit until she begins to stir. "Morning," he says as her eyes open. "Sleep well?"

Lup rouses, stretching through her toes with a yawn. "Mornin'..." She assesses the situation for a beat through sleepy eyes-- snuggled up close to each other, his arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. She remembers the way he'd reached for her in the middle of the night; but now he'd been awake for probably a while, with her draped over him snoozing away. _Geez_. 

"Sorry, sorry," she sits up, rubbing a hand across her face. "I uhh... Maybe a little too well, sorry..." Okay, he doesn't look at all upset, that's a relief. She laughs, embarrassed but thankfully less worried about actually being a nuisance. "You, uhh, you sleep okay?"

Barry pushes up on an elbow with a smile. “No need to be sorry, you’re nice and toasty. I slept real good, better than usual,” he says. 

He wriggles up to sitting and reaches for his pack. The slight shake to his hands makes it hard to fumble it open and retrieve his glasses. He looks at his hands, a little pensively. His stomach rumbles. Ah.

She _snores._ Not loud, just a little, enough to know she’s there and breathing. Barry adores that, it’s cute and reassuring all in one.

“Guess we should eat something and get going. Maybe we’ll find something we missed,” he says.

"Yeah, yeah." She stands and stretches properly; as comfy as Barry was, the ground is still the ground. In a proper bed though? He'd be an A-plus snuggle. She lets the thought linger as she reaches for clean pants. Now that the question of platonic-cuddling had... more or less been addressed, maybe that could be arranged. Would he be so willing in a less dire situation? It might be worth an ask.

She digs out a shirt and tosses her pack his direction, "I'll take care of cleanup if you wanna throw on some coffee? There's some fruit in there too," her nose is scrunched even as she says it. _Gods, please let us find something else out here..._

“Can do,” Barry answers. He busies himself putting together what he stubbornly, ambitiously forces himself to think of as _breakfast._ On occasion, balanced with other things and other meals, coffee and fruit could be a solid start. It’s just not sufficient on its own.

Barry hopes they find food today. They need their strength, especially if the village represents a threat now. So far it’s just been defense, but without knowing _why_ the change happened it’s hard to know whether aggression is next.

What if there’s food ahead and they missed it because he fell in the river like a dumbass? That’s a big, fat, Barry’s-fault situation. What an idea. He hates it, thanks brain.

He risks a look behind him, not 100% sure whether she’s finished dressing but having left enough time that he hopes so.. “Breakfast is ready,” he says.

When he turns, the bedrolls are packed away, neat little pile of blankets stacked beside. She tugs her shirt on, turning to catch the tail end of that sentence-- _ready_ , and the two thermoses in his hands are enough to clue her in. 

"Thanks, Bear," She settles next to him, taking her coffee and-- with a resigned sigh-- a persimmon. Her craving for a _literal physical vegetable_ is currently indescribable. But she takes and she eats, reminding herself that she is so lucky to know choice, and to miss it. She's survived on less, she's known times when she would do incredibly questionable things for this meal. Even so, it's hard not to want. 

"We could probably go a bit further, right? Before turning around? I mean, since we stopped a bit early. If you don't want to risk running outta light though, we can just head that way right away. Your call; I'm good either way."

Bear.

He has a nickname now. No one else calls him Bear—perhaps surprisingly, it’s not hard to get there from Barry. It’s sweet, and he likes it, and his whole inside feels like soft, sticky taffy about it. He blushes into his thermos for a second and takes a large bite of persimmon, munching it thoughtfully and swallowing before answering her question.

“Yeah...uh, yeah, we could go a little ways and see. Even if we don’t make it all the way back before dusk...food would be worth it, you know?” And she’ll be with him, able to show him the way back.

"Yeah, I'd say so. If you're cool with scouting on a little bit, let's do it. I mean, gods, I'd hike this whole plane if it meant some good food, but..." She shrugs. "I've got Huts for days. Well... probably like one more, but still." Her laugh comes stifled by a yawn. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think we could handle it." 

Lup gives him a little elbow, and stands to finish stowing their stuff. Luckily their clothes have mostly dried from their jaunt in the river, so away they go until all that's left to do is take down the Hut and be on their way. 

It's starting to look like this place only grows persimmons. Which just. Absolutely cannot be true? But aside from various bioluminescent foliage, it's just trees all the way down as far as she can see from their camp. They find their path from the night before, and follow it farther on, hoping for the best.

As they set off, Barry watches Lup carefully. She's looking tired faster than usual. He doesn't like it. Between that and his hands trembling, it sends his thoughts to dark places.

She's slim. He'll...last longer, if it comes down to--

He shakes his head slightly, trying to clear the thoughts. They have persimmons, they won't _starve_ -starve, ~~at least not until winter,~~ and anyway it doesn't matter because they're gonna find food today and bring it back and it'll be fine, gods it has to be.

He can't think about the alternative.

So he won't, then. He nudges her elbow. "You know you snore? Like little bitty snores," he teases with a grin. "Didn't bother me one bit, you must've been _out_ though _._ "

"Ohh gods..." She covers her face, shaking her head with a laugh. "Yeah, no, Taako's informed me on _several_ occasions. I mean I can't apologise for nature but... Sorry not sorry?"

She climbs over a felled branch, big enough to be a tree back home, pausing to stand atop it and scan the area. "You do too, though. Not much but, sometimes. Big loud ones." She imitates a loud snore, complete with a soft _mi-mi-mi_ at the end, like the old bit goes. 

Barry snorts with laughter at her imitation. "Guess we were both tired. I mean, who could blame us?" He pauses. "Pretty good sleep, though. I'm glad we brought the bedrolls this time, and, hm. I always sleep better warm and with someone close. You know," he shrugs expressively. "Won't ever turn down a snuggle."

"Hah, yeah, definitely. I-- same here. That's a dangerous thing to say though... best be a man of your word, cause cha'girl will come to collect." 

"Oh, I talk a big cuddle game but listen, I can back it up, just try," Barry answers playfully. _Yes,_ **yes,** **_YES,_** let her come collect, all day, all night. _Hell yes,_ that thought is for sure one of the best ones this year.

Looking out from her vantage a few extra feet from the ground, she can see maybe a mile out through thinning trees, if she squints. "Looks like another break in the trees way out there. Wanna... I dunno, go til we hit a clearing or something?" She slides down to meet Barry on the other side. If they don't set an endpoint, what's to stop them from searching forever? As much as guilt and hunger keep urging them ahead, they’re only people. And people can't keep going forever, as much as they'd like to.

He follows her gaze. "That sounds good, that way we don't go too far out. We've still gotta be able to bring food _back,_ " he notes. If this doesn't pan out, he guesses they'll have to try north, maybe move to another spot entirely. There's _gotta_ be something else somewhere, surely it's not just elk and birds and persimmons on the whole godsdamned planet?

They trek on towards where the woods break. Maybe more of a stroll than a trek. Even given how well they slept, it's getting harder and harder to keep up the pace they're used to without proper food. "So like, obviously we're totally gonna find a bunch of stuff and bring it back and have a sick feast, natch. But, even if we don't, we can still bring plant life back to study? Definitely something growing in these woods is edible-- what are the dang elk eating? Don't tell Mags though, I think he'd eat the back end offa Davenport if he's not payin' attention."

He ponders her words as they walk on. She's absolutely right, the elk have to be eating _something,_ and maybe people could eat it, too. It just needs them finding out which plants. "That's for sure," he answers. "If we were equipped for it I'd say we could hunt the elk, but oof...they're _big_ , I don't think it'd be like big game hunting as we know it." The villagers can do it, but they're larger and have weapons and know-how. Barry can't quite get his head around that idea after seeing the elk stampede--how would they even slow it down?

The prospect of hunting game the size of _anything_ this plane had to offer is terrifying. Sure, the locals can do it, but the locals are also eight feet tall and have lived amongst the creatures forever. Trying to pick that up in a few months could very well prove fatal. But, what other choice do they have?

"Yeah, I don't know. Gods, we should have spent more time learning from them instead of just relying on them. Maybe if we had been closer..." _No, stop it._ No amount of hypotheticals could change the past. There's only what they've done, and how they move on from it. It just could've been so easy...

"Maybe we can still figure it out. If we can get close enough to their traps, or... or watch them hunt?" It's dangerous, but so is going on the way they have been. At what point is it worth the risk?

"Maybe...hmmm, I mean we kinda need to watch them to figure out how to get the Light? That might be our best bet, then, we could kinda spy on them. Shit, that's kinda fucked up, but I think we gotta spy on them and get all their elk hunting secrets. I wish they'd just let us talk with them, maybe meet with whoever the Resolver is now and work it out. I don't think we're being unreasonable, but they're not thinking straight," Barry says.

That's really the heart of the matter, and something Barry was having a hard time wrapping his head around. The villagers weren't acting rationally. They weren't interested in discussion or pragmatism or long-term planning. They were interested in keeping the Light at any cost, and that was overriding the crew's warnings and pleas. Some small part of Barry still hoped for peaceful resolution, but that part was shrinking, starved out by an all-persimmon diet as reality set in.

"What's fucked up is _not_ spyin' and just letting 'em keep the Light. You're right they're not... The Light's messing with 'em. If we could just get it away from them, they'd have to forgive us, right?" Lup's not one to ask forgiveness rather than permission from friends, but she's also not keen on letting those friends make decisions that will kill them. 

They press on, through the trees until the sun shines right overhead and Barry sees what looks like a break in the trees up ahead. He points it out to Lup. "Looks like a clearing there, fingers crossed for something good there." Like mushrooms, like another village with a burger stand in it, like a wholeass field of soy just chilling there, something good.

The sun's only getting higher overhead, they'll have to turn back soon. She kicks a stone down their makeshift path, out into the open of the clearing. What it lacks in trees... it also lacks in everything else. She sighs, not really having expected much else, but always hoping. 

"Let's... let's take some samples for Merle. We can head back maybe a different way, try to cover more ground?" Hopefully she sounds more sure than she feels.

Barry sighs, looking around the clearing. “Yeah. Yeah, that’ll be good. Let’s get some samples,” he answers. “Maybe loop back around to the east, then north?”

They start gathering, looking for anything that seems almost-familiar or might be elk food. The clearing didn’t pan out. The disappointment is sharp. Hope feels good, but having it denied this way hurts worse than pessimism some days.

Luckily, sample gathering doesn't take too much of their time. Unfortunately, that's because there's very little variety in the specimens they find. But they do what they can, packing away sample bags dutifully, before heading back east-ward. 

Lup refuses to give up, plucking samples as they walk until her stash of sample bags runs entirely dry. Something in this mess of foliage had to be edible. She wouldn't even care if it tasted good at this point. One of these days she's just gonna pull a Magnus and start sticking things in her mouth. For science, of course.

As they walk, Barry tries and fails to come up with good things to talk about. The silence between them isn’t awkward, but he needs a distraction. They’ve got samples, the trip isn’t a total bust, but anxiety gnaws at him.

“Hey, Lup?” he says. “You, uh, you got anything good we can talk about? Like just, funny or, I don’t know. Something to keep us going?” It doesn’t have to be deep, it can just be something silly. It’ll feel better than curling in on himself with despair.

"Yeah? Huh..." Gods know they could use a good joke, but that doesn't feel right. Something good, though.. she racks her brain for fond memories. 

"I uhh... Oh, Taako ever tell you he's kind of a dancer? I mean, we both were, ballet, in college? Just for y'know, keeping up a workout-- Taako _refused_ to pick up kickboxing with me, didn't want to risk bruising that pretty face." She laughs. It had been nice, having that class together, something creative ~~and lacking in excess homework~~. "Never really got to do much pointe, started a bit late to the game and all that so I wasn't that good at it. But it's fun. You uhh, you do anything like that in school? You said you did piano, yeah?"

Barry grins. That sounds like fun, having a dance class. He can see it, Lup and Taako, graceful arms and legs, yeah.

“Piano, yeah. I’m sure I’m rusty as anything now, but I always did love it. My teacher was super excited about my hands being the size they are, I could reach an _eleventh._ It’s nice, with piano it’s like, hmmm.” He pauses, trying to figure out how to say it. “Piano can be the main event, sorta, like a solo or what have you, but a lot of the time if you’re playing with other folks it’s there to kinda work around them and fill in and keep the rhythm—like show them off? A good accompanist can kinda support and highlight the other musicians, too. I don’t know, that kinda always felt nice, like important but not everyone’s focused right on you, so not as many nerves,” he says.

Maybe one of these days they’ll find a place with a piano, and peace, and time. That’d be amazing, something nice and familiar. A piece of home. He smiles thinking about it.

She nods along, it makes sense if you're not wanting to be the centre of attention. It seems like Barry, focused on supporting his friends above making a spectacle of himself. _Gift of help_ , there's definitely truth to that. She wonders if he'd feel better or uncomfortable to know that piano had always stuck out to her-- easy to feel beneath the winds or lighter strings. 

"Our instructor always insisted on a live pianist. Guess she was old school like that. Made it easier on me though." As much as she'd never offer the information, she'd actually grown pretty fond of the classical pieces. More difficult to learn to play, but worth it. "Wonder if the guys'd start a band with ya; I hear Merle plays a mean washboard," she laughs.

He laughs too. “He would, gods. Call it The Interplanars, they’ll have to make up a new genre,” he jokes.

This is better, focusing on something as they walk. “So did you do like, recitals and stuff, in ballet? I’d love to have watched that, I bet it was real nice,” he says.

"Nah, nah, it wasn't like a... like a troupe or anything. Just class." He'd have liked to see them dance? It's flattering to think they might have been good enough to watch.

"I... I did... I mean it was only the one time, but there was a little variety show thing? One of Taako's friends in the drama department invited him to come, it was like a weekly thing, and we just kept going? And uhh, I did play that one time. Not a dance thing, though, violin-- sorry to disappoint." She gives a shrug. Maybe one of these planes would have a similar instrument? It'd be nice to pick it up again.

Violin? Oh, that’s far from disappointing, that’s wonderful! “Now that I would definitely love to have seen. Violin’s so cool, I never could get my head around how folks can be so accurate without frets, though. That just seems hard,” he says.

Violin. That suits her, Barry decides—capable of all sorts of music, folk to classical, versatile enough to offer a challenge. 

"It's all about feel. Muscle-memory or whatever. I think it leaves a lot of room for... y'know there's lots of ways you can split up frequencies to make notes? Not everyone uses the octave system! It's _buck_ wild, but like... so cool." She blushes, realising her rambling. Oops.

He smiles softly. “That’s so cool. I guess I didn’t ever really think about music without the octave system, but _why not?_ I bet it sounds so different,” he says.

She blushed. It’s cute, and he could listen to her happy like this all day. That, on top of the familiar subject, is really what puts him at ease.

"I mean I'm no expert, saw a Fantasy Ted Talk about it once." She shrugs, the change of topic bringing out a more casual side of him that she honestly had missed. Sure, impromptu river diving and survival based camping trips are chill, but it gets old. Shooting the shit about music theory though? Never.

He laughs suddenly at a memory. “I used to get in trouble with my piano teacher all the time. She’d have me playing something and I’d lose my place and sort of fade into playing by ear, and it’d be close but not exact. She always noticed. That’s what she gets for teaching me theory, though, what can I say, I was _arranging,_ ” he jokes.

His laugh brings her back to reality. Playing by ear? Now _that_ 's impressive. "I've never understood how people could do _that_ . I mean, I _get_ it, but like... Takes some serious skill to pull that off."

He chuckles. “It only takes skill to play by ear _well,_ it’s real easy to make a bunch of noise just for fun though,” he says. “If you do it enough it starts to sound like nicer and nicer noise, though.”

He grins and looks up at the sky, fluffy clouds starting to streak pink and purple and orange as the sun travels on its path to the horizon. “Maybe one of these days we can play. Some plane out there, just yeah. Even if we’re the only ones who hear it, music is kind of its own point, I think,” he says.

"I'd love to play again. Left my violin at home though; wasn't exactly plannin' any concerts on the trip. But if I can find one? You're gonna have to keep me from smuggling it on board." She grins. _We?_ She'd never really played _with_ anyone-- Taako hadn't enjoyed playing as much. She'd taught him a few notes, but then they'd gotten older and he'd gotten acrylics, and the whole deal had kind of been forgotten. But it'd be fun, playing with others. Her crew. Her friends. Yeah, that could be fun.

He snorts a laugh. "You know, if I take my glasses off to clean 'em real good, I'd never see a thing," he teases. "No witnesses, who's to say?"

It's getting darker now, the sunlight fading out as night falls. Barry feels the first telltale squeezes of anxiety in his chest-- _dark!_ He draws closer to Lup and slips his fingers into the crook of her elbow. 

Her arm flexes at the touch, but she's quick to relax and shoot him a smile in the fading light. It's a give and take; she looks out, he listens. Feeling him next to her is equal reassurance that he's there for her, and knows how the situation changes for them both from day to night. "Who indeed..."

Barry gives her a slightly bashful look-- _this again_ \--even as he knows that she understands. "We're getting pretty close, huh?"

They _are_ getting close. Specimen bags or no, they haven't come across anything new that looked remotely edible. Not that they'd seen the denizens of this world eating, at the very least. Lup prides herself in maintaining optimism, but there's something to be said about expecting the improbable with no actual evidence. 

"Yeah... We'll get to sleep in beds soon, though, yeah? That's.. that's exciting at least? And some of this stuff," she pats her bag, "it has to be edible. Right? I mean, I for one am interested in figuring out how this stuff grows here." 

A bed would be nice. Empty, but softer, a trade-off. "Yeah for sure, I was hoping to find out how it's all this big when there's so little light," he says.

She fiddles with the strap of her bag, aware of the left turn into depressing conversation she'd taken. "You, uhh... You ever... play for people? Piano, I mean..."

And all at once they're back to music, where it's light and familiar. Barry is relieved. "Sometimes, like my teacher had us play recitals. I started when I was little, and I had the worst stage fright, especially at first." He pauses. "My mom helped a lot with that, and so did extra practice. I'm sure Mom was at a breaking point with Moonlight Sonata, though, just me playing it over and over," he laughs. It's getting easier to talk about her in contexts like these, fond memories and funny stories. Maybe that's what healing feels like, Barry thinks. "My teacher taught voice though, too, and a couple other instruments, and once I had enough skill I started to accompany other students and that was real good. It's kind of a trick learning to split focus and follow the person and the sheet music, but it's a cool feeling. Sort of a...creative synergy, or something."

He'd let her listen to him practice. Barry's a little surprised by the thought. Performing is public; it's a finished work that's ready to show people. Practice time is private; it's like hanging out in your house naked. All the rough spots and mistakes and difficult passages are on display. That's okay, though. He's willing to be goofy and fuck up a little in front of her. The thought is comforting. She wouldn’t be cruel.

She watches in rapture as he talks, steering them back onto the track of the comfortable. Again, his fondness for accompaniment, his gift of help. "Definitely synergy. I think an accompanist has to work twice as hard. And the ‘soloist’," she presses her finger-quotes against his hand, a trick she'd learned in the quiet and precarious moments of her time on the road, "they always get more credit. It's silly to me. Playing a piece of music is easy, marrying that with someone else's interpretation?" She shakes her head, signing a semblance of _I don't know_ against his hand. She'd heard the horror stories from friends of accompanist and soloist paired up merely hours or less before a performance. That kind of cohesion-- synergy really was the best word. It just felt unfair.

“It’s fun stuff, for sure, find the right pairing…” The night is mostly still, and as they come up a slight incline Barry can see a light ahead. Almost there. Off to the left, a sound splits the silence: a long, distressed burgle. "Hold on, something's--what's over there?" he asks, pointing to a dark shape he can almost make out.

His tone shifts and they stop. She follows his direction with narrow eyes in the weird lighting. The light pollution from the ship, and coming from the dark cover of the trees, it's difficult to make out what exactly he's hearing. But there is movement, that much is sure. It's jolting, inconsistent. 

"I... an animal, maybe? Too big to be one of ours. Here," she covers the hand on her arm with her own, guiding him closer, her voice turning to a stage whisper. "I'm going to check it out. The-- the shadows are messy, and..." _I can't let you get hurt_. It's silly, he's capable. But. She brings his hand to rest against a tree, her face inches from his. "Two seconds." She gives his hand a squeeze, and toes out into the grass.

Barry waits as she goes to check, anxiety beginning to rise. Please come back, please don't get hurt, please don't vanish into the shadows forever. And then she's back, it was only a moment.

When she returns to touch his shoulder, there's a distinct hitch to her breath. She's crying. "C-Come on. It's... It can't get to us, it's.. an elk? I think it's one of the traps..."

Oh no, _oh no,_ she's crying, it must be bad--and then she says "traps". He follows her, wanting to comfort her but not really knowing what to say until he sees what's going on. She leads him to the elk, and Barry can tell at least part of the problem immediately: the poor creature is on the ground, trying to move, but failing. It calls again, and Barry's having a hard time seeing how exactly it's being kept down. As far as he knows, though, if it's anything like an elk back home, if it can't get up...that's pretty much the ball game, it needs to move. It's suffering. He gathers Lup into his arms, just a reassuring hug. He rubs his hand gently between her shoulder blades as he tries to come to grips with what they need to do. This creature doesn't deserve to suffer. They don't deserve to starve. The solution is obvious. That doesn't make it easier.

He pulls back enough to let her see his face. "Lup...I don't think it's gonna make it. I can..." he sighs. "I can make sure it doesn't hurt. It'll be kinder. Do you need to...you don't have to see, it's okay."

It's hard to make out in the mix of dark and artificial light, but some structure is keeping this poor thing down, and it doesn't look good. She keeps a firm grip on Barry's arm, and gives a tight-lipped nod. 

"Yeah, um... yeah, it's not..." She takes a breath, looking the whole scene over. Something had misfired, structures looked jumbled. "I'll Send the crew. They need to... We need to tell them but. I'm here. Tell me what I can do, I'll-- I'll guide you. Keep its attention..." _Gods_ , this plane just couldn't give them a break. Lup's survival brain says food, but her literally everything else says _creature_. She grits her teeth, and produces a small flame to guide Barry.

Gods, she's a trooper. Barry takes a deep breath. "I just need--just right here, with the light. It'll only take a second, just quick and painless, promise."

He slowly approaches the elk, careful not to spook it further. "It's alright, ssshhh," he murmurs, placing his hand on the animal's side. Only a second, just a simple Death Touch, it was easy, the elk was weak to begin with. It sighs and slumps, relieved of its suffering.

It was the right thing to do.

It was absolute shit.

Barry shoves back a long train of thought about how fucking unfair this whole situation is and turns to Lup. "You okay?" he asks gently.

Lup's eyes screw shut when Barry starts mumbling a spell. _Quick and Painless_. Bullshit. 

His words are palpable in the new still, and she nods, perhaps a little too hard. "I'll... Lemme Send 'em." She takes a few steps back, the flame at her fingertips giving Barry a beacon in the dark. _"Ko, we've found something. Southwest, just into the wood. Don't wake Mags."_ Merle could handle this with his line of work, she knows Ko could too, and she doubts he'd think to wake Lucretia at this hour. But Magnus... he doesn't need to see this. 

She's back into earshot, arms crossed firmly, when she receives a groggy response. "They're... some of them are gonna come check it out. Merle wants us to drop off the samples, once they meet us. You... you okay?"

Barry takes another deep breath and tries to pull himself together. Working with life and death in a controlled way is one thing, but all of this in the dark on a hostile plane is entirely different. “Yeah, I’m okay. Or I will be, anyhow. We’ve gotta figure out how to handle all this, now, this is—this is a lot of elk. But I guess we did find food, so it’s not a bust.”

They’ll wait for Merle and Taako. They’ll put their heads together and figure out preserving and rationing. They’ll get their strength back. But for now, they have to deal with this. Barry opens his arms again to Lup. “Maybe one more hug?”

She chokes out a laugh, tucking her head under his chin with a tight squeeze. They deserved a damn good sleep after this. And a meal, but she didn't want to think about that right now. Shopping for food is one thing, what they just did, _had to do_? A whole other monster entirely. 

The others arrive after a few minutes, Taako goes to help Merle figure out exactly how to deal with _this_ , after a long hug from Lup. She promises to come back and help, after a shower probably, and heads for the ship, holding tight to Barry's arm. There's no façade of guidance here; the light from the ship softens the darkness as they close in on the Starblaster. She's close to him for comfort's sake, a fact she makes no point to hide. They deserve as much.

Back to the ship with Lup. Barry gratefully passes the burden of thinking about what to do next to Merle and Taako for a few minutes. It’s dark and he’s tired and as close to ‘home’ as it gets these days.

Lup walks along with him, close and holding his arm tightly. That’s not usually how they do it, and Barry can feel the difference. This is because she wants to be near him, because that’s reassuring, and Barry feels the same. He’s rattled and tired and just wants to be clean and close and comfortable. There’s work to be done first, but they’re getting there.

“I’ll shower after you, I’m just gonna get something to drink,” he says. “We did it, go team.” They’ll figure it out. They always do. For now, they’re back, in one piece, not too much the worse for wear and with renewed hope and that has to be enough.

She nods, and gives a _super enthusiastic_ "Woo." They'd done it, in a sense. Lup just thought they'd feel better about it. 

The shower is a welcome distraction, washing river water from her hair and working out knots takes up enough of her mind that the rest of her thoughts don't wander. She takes the time to get properly dressed, something comfortable and warm, before going to find Barry in the kitchen.

Barry sits at the kitchen table, empty water glass in front of him. He’s starting to feel halfway like a person again with the small break. He zones out for a bit, not really thinking about much at all. Probably he should sleep, but that’ll be later, after everything’s dealt with. No need to take unnecessary risks, they’ve got to get the meat in ASAP to avoid spoilage.

He looks up as Lup walks in. She looks cozy and warm from the water. “Enjoy your shower?” he asks.

Lup shrugs, tapping on the coffee pot before taking the seat next to him. "I'm cleaner." A non-answer, but it's the truth she's got to offer. Enjoy was far from the operative word there. She feels a bit more like a person though, and that's not nothing. 

"I'm gonna go help, we'll probably be out there for a bit though. That's... 's a lotta prep work. I'll leave ya some coffee if you want, but you should probably sleep, yeah?" The pot gives a little _ding_ and flicker of light, and she heaves herself up to get a mug.

“I, uh. If you can give me like five minutes I’ll come with. Just a quick shower, we can use all the hands we can get,” he says.

She thought he wouldn’t come out and help? The thought hadn’t entered Barry’s mind. This was something they just had to _do._ It was what gave them the best chance at survival, even _health,_ so they’d do it. “I don’t know that I can find it alone, but I can for sure help once I’m there,” he says.

"You sure? I mean, yeah, more the merrier, if you're up to it. I'll uhh... I'll be here then." She settles back down with her mug, feet pulled up onto the chair. 

They'd walked quite a lot, she'd expected him to jump at the chance for sleep. Plus, the prospect of preparing an animal probably wasn't super exciting to regular people? Not that Lup was raring to go, but they'd had to take what they could get as kids, and she'd helped Taako enough times when he'd insisted on whole-whatevers for some recipe that _that_ part of the deal was unfortunate at most. The circumstances were drastically different though. This was survival, but also _sad_. 

Lup busies herself in the kitchen, washing up dishes and doing anything she can that isn't sitting with her thoughts. When Barry returns, his thermos is refilled on the table, and she's drying some odd pasta-making contraption.

He smiles at her as he comes back into the kitchen, hair still sticking up funny from a rough towel dry. “Aw, thanks,” he says, picking up the thermos. “I’m ready when you are. Quicker we do this, the safer.”

It stings a little, in an odd way, that she thought he’d leave them to bring in the elk without him. Surely she’s just concerned that he’d be tired, or that he’d be offput by the process, but Barry’d gotten more sleep than usual last night, and death was...well, kind of his job. Some part of him needs to be needed, even when he should be made to rest. He never did learn the trick of taking time for himself when others were working. Maybe one day. Maybe this is a necessary feeling.

Barry snaps back to the moment as they head out the door. The quicker they do this, the quicker they can all get a good meal in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: They're gonna survive, y'all! They're doing it!  
> SA: But at what ding dang cost!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing's for sure: the crew needs the Light back.
> 
> And the villagers won't give it back.
> 
> So that's two things.
> 
> Time for a plan.

"Alright... temperature variant is 22 degrees. So over a half gram that's... two kila-cals per gram? That can’t be right.  _ Right? _ " Lup calls as the last of the flame dies out. They'd found that their trek hadn't been for naught-- a few of the greens they'd brought back had proven edible. In light of the good news and fuller bellies, Taako, Lup and Barry had been tasked with figuring out  _ how much _ of this stuff they actually would need. It was going... perhaps  _ too _ well?

Lup double checks her maths, scrawling out notes in Elvish. "Barry, this is  _ lettuce _ ? With a calorie count like  _ Cheetos _ . If the nutrition all works out, this--" 

She's cut off when the lab door opens, and a wide eyed Lucretia rushing in. "Hey, guys? There's, uhmm, someone here to talk? From the village?"

Barry sets down his pen. That’s unexpected. The villagers had been pretty adamant that they  _ didn’t _ want to talk to the crew.

“That’s weird, I wonder what they want?” he says, half to himself, aloud. He turns to Lucretia. “Coming,” he says.

“Wanna go see what’s up?” he says to Lup. They’ve been working on this for the past few days, and Barry’s never been so enamored of every bite of food in front of him. Having more has given the crew some breathing room, and they sorely needed it. Hopefully whomever is here from the village is bringing more good news.

" _ Duh _ ." She sets her tongs down and throws her lab coat onto its hook. "Whatever they want is way more pressing than how much vitamin  _ whatever _ is in this stuff." 

"Agreed. What the Astral do  _ they _ want?" Taako hops off of a counter, gaining an eye roll from Lup.  _ There weren't any chemicals out _ , he said,  _ it's fine _ , he said. No amount of nagging would ever change his "brand", though, and she unfortunately knew that all too well.

Sure enough, they find Merle and Magnus on the deck, talking to one of the folks from the village. They all look up when Lucretia clears her throat in an entrance and, wait, they look familiar... " _ Devon? _ "

The last time they'd seen Devon he'd been pretty seriously injured. He seems to have recovered now. That's good, Barry had been worried about him; moreso when the others hadn't let them in to see him.

"Hey Devon, I'm glad to see you looking better. What's going on in the village? The rest won't let us in, I hear you have a new Resolver?" he asks.

Devon can't seem to keep his eyes focused at one place. He glances over his shoulder, off in the direction of the village. "Something is very wrong. Jean returned, with your little sun, I believe. It has changed him. Others are changing too. They're..." he fumbles for a word that encapsulates something they had mostly eradicated. "Selfish. Cruel. He has rededicated himself; now he’s the Resolver; I haven't seen Leanna, I don't know what has happened to her..."

"Hey, hey. Devon." Lup bridges the gap between them with a hand on his arm. He towers above them all, but his tone is small and scared. She can't stomach it. "We're going to fix this. Okay? Tell us everything, we want to help, right guys?"

"Right, definitely. We'll do whatever we can, we want to keep all of us safe. Can you take it from the beginning? I know you were hurt, but we never got the full story," Barry says.

Devon takes a second to gather himself. "We were hunting, and that's when we found it. There was a bush, grown too big to be a bush, and it glowed. The little sun was right underneath. Jean noticed it, but someone else went to look. I'm sorry, I don't remember who, but then Jean...he seemed upset that he didn't have it? And he turned against us all, I ran as soon as he injured me, back to the village. No one else came back," he explains.

"Except Jean." Magnus spits the name; Devon nods. 

"Ohh gods..." Lucretia's horror is quiet, a plea with forces who had already chosen not to listen. Lup wraps a protective arm around her. They've all already seen so much destruction and pain, but underneath it all it's hard not to hope. Even harder to hope and see it shattered. 

"I was in Recovery when he came back. I wasn't told the extent of the... changes until I'd healed. Others were already affected by then. Everyone working in that building, those with dedications in Apportionment and Resolving and Dedication itself, they're all under Jean's influence."

"Shit, that's not good," Merle mutters.

"I'm assuming Jean doesn't know you've come here?" Barry asks. Devon's story is nothing but several of the fragments his brain's unhelpfully suggested late at night as he tries to sleep, strung together into a cohesive narrative and somehow worse for it.

"No. I've been rededicated to pick fruit under directions from Recovery, at least for now. I'll need to bring some back with me." Devon looks from one to another. "Do not tell them I've been here. Those in Resolving carry weapons now, though it is unnecessary."

_ Jesus Fantasy Christ. _

"We won't, my dude. We can probably spare some fruit, yeah?" Taako looks to his crew, receiving a slew of nods. 

"Or help gather, if that's safe?" Lucretia opens her notes to a blank page, producing a pencil from her bun. "Do you know the layout of the building? If we can figure out where they're keeping the Light, we might have a chance at getting it back."

It would take some serious reconnaissance, Lup posits, but they have to try, right? "Any information you know about the schedules there, where Jean spends his time, anything would help."

Devon nods, taking the notebook. "I know the building. I'm afraid I don't know much else. Everyone's changed so much. But I will observe, and see what I can find. This is not our people's way, and I am not the only one who wishes its end."

Barry nods thoughtfully. "What do they say about us? I know no one will let us into the village. Are there just a lot of rumors or an official story?" he asks. Knowing that may be helpful.

"There are mostly rumors, but some are repeated by Jean and his followers. They say you mean harm and are unfair," Devon explains. "That doesn't seem true to me though, you made certain I got to Recovery and always brought equitable exchange."

"Do you think there's any chance of being able to talk with Jean? Maybe we can straighten this out," Merle says.

Lup knows what's coming, but it doesn't help a bit. "Doubtful." Devon looks dejected at best. "That would be the best way to resolve this, but I don't believe diplomacy is in Jean's mind now." 

"Maybe this is a 'move first, ask for forgiveness later' situation? If we remove the Light's thrall, we probably stand a better chance of making them understand." Lucretia doesn't look proud of her suggestion, but she makes a point. Approaching diplomacy while the thrall still had them would be like asking water to stop being wet. They've already tried and failed, and from what Devon says the situation has only gotten worse. 

Lup doesn't object, but she doesn't speak up in agreement either. It feels all too much like they're playing the cruel guardian, making choices under the guise of "what's best for you". But it  _ is _ best, right? Leaving them to their own devices at this point is a death sentence, for these people and their world. Would it be any better to let the Light corrupt them until the hungry void strikes them down? Would they even last that long?

Well, clearly Lucretia's right about removing the thrall, the big question is  _ how. _ Ultimately the Light needs to be on the Starblaster when they take off, and certainly there's time to work out the details and they should try for a diplomatic solution, of course. But there comes a point when judgment is so clouded that words are of no use. Force, at least brute force is a last resort. The best thing Barry can think of here is stealth. Gather intelligence, steal the Light. Remove the danger, then talk about what happened in a safe way.

"That's probably our best option. We can't bail out a boat until we stop the leak, right? As long as they've got the Light there's no reasoning with them  _ and _ a greater chance of violence. We've got to get it out of there," he says.

Magnus is already peeking at Devon's drawing of the building as it takes shape. "We'll need to find out what room it's in. Do you think anyone in Resolving might help us? Anyone who might see it the same way?" he asks.

Devon sets the pencil down. "Everyone in Resolving is affected. Those in manual dedications are more likely to be supportive. I can try to ask around, but it is dangerous now."

"Don't do something more risky than you have to. You're our best shot at solving this." Lup finally speaks up, looking over the drawing. Several rooms are shown, one she recognises as where Leanna had met them several times. Others she'd never had a reason to go to. "If you can tell us what these rooms are for, who uses them, we might be able to work on a plan. I'll uhh, I'll see what we can spare as far as fruit; you should get back, we can't cause suspicion this early." With that, she heads below deck.

Later that evening, after dinner, the crew stays around the table studying Devon's map.

"We shouldn't all go in, even apart from someone staying aboard," Magnus points out. "There's too many of us to be sneaky."

Barry nods. "Yeah, uh, probably better with just one or two? Might slip past 'em easier," he agrees.

Lup's eyes meet Taako's. They don't call him the Flip Wizard for nothin'. To be fair, no one really calls him that other than Magnus, but still. He rolls his eyes and sighs for the drama. "Yeah, alright, cha'boi'll go. Not alone though,  _ hell _ no."

Lup stabs at her salad (thank the  _ gods _ for salad). "Don't look at me-- that's a bad idea and we all know it. Depending on what the move is, that's gonna change who we want going in though, yeah? Like, if we need to help make a distraction, or like, tranq a guard or something? I think it's too early to decide for sure." 

If Davenport were there, he'd know what to do. He could probably pull it off alone, honestly, with his stealth and illusions? Hell, they probably wouldn't have even  _ lost _ the damned thing, had he been here to keep them all in line. Lup stabs another wad of leaves. He better come back.

Barry frowns at the map. They really need more information. Devon’s already more on the inside than any of them, but without him really having access it seems like a big risk to ask of someone who won’t just fly away after or come back if worst comes to worst.

Lucretia looks up from checking back through some of her notes. “Concerning that Devon hasn’t seen Leanna. We may need to plan a potential rescue if they’re holding her, or she could be...” she trails off, unwilling to say it.

Barry nods in agreement. That’s a wrinkle, if Leanna’s alive and needs help, how to do that without compromising the mission. They don’t even know whether she’s under the thrall, too. This might be a power struggle between her and Jean. “Agreed we need to keep an eye out, but I think getting the Light out of there is priority. Removing the thrall will only help clear the tension,” he says.

Lup agrees, though it pains her. Leanna had been nothing but kind and welcoming of their arrival, and putting any  _ thing _ above someone's life is a dangerous game. But Barry's right. Removing the Light is the best course of action for everyone, including Leanna. They'll just have to be careful. 

"Right. So, we wait for information from Devon, figure out a sneaky plan of attack, and I guess see if he can figure out anything about Leanna. That's... a lot of what-ifs. But we can do more when we have more, yeah?"

No one looks excited by the prospect of pulling one over on former friends, which is at least some form of a relief to Lup. Hopefully, they'll be able to call these people friends again soon. Put this whole mess in the past and go back to trading bread and persimmons. For a while, at least.

\--

Devon proves to be a valuable informant. Over the next several days, he brings them as much information as he can about the rhythms of the folks working in Resolving, as well as Jean himself. The crew learns that the Light is kept in the room Leanna's met with them in before. It had been a communal-feeling conference room to Barry's memory, but according to Devon, Jean treats the room much more proprietarily now, as something more akin to an audience room.

It becomes clear that Jean is accustomed to taking meals with many of the folks from Resolving. Devon's "gotten lost" looking for one or another of them a couple of times, and found that often only a couple of people will be left in the building then.

After much deliberation, it's decided that Taako and Lucretia will retrieve the light. With his dexterity and her quiet demeanor and strong shielding spells, the two should be able to slip in and out before anyone notices. That's the hope, anyhow.

And that brings them to now, Merle on the ship, Barry keeping a lookout, ready to back Lucretia and Taako up as needed, and Lup and Magnus poised to ruffle some feathers on the outskirts at the opposite end of the village. It's go time.

Lup's got a hip bag full of components and a can-do attitude, flanked by Magnus on a long walk to the south side of the village. Ideally, they'll just cause a commotion-- ask for an audience maybe, get denied, cause a little stink. It should be plenty to give the others time to do their part. 

She raps her knuckles on a tree trunk for good measure.

As has become routine, there is a modest guard stationed at strategic points of the town. They stand to attention, weapons drawn as the two approach. "What is your business here?" One draped in massive furs glares down at them. 

"We're here to talk to Jean?" Magnus (thankfully) keeps a modest distance from the guard, letting his voice carry the twenty or so feet instead. "He's in charge, right? We've got some uhh.. some stuff he should know." 

"Yeah, is there somebody who could like. Go get him? Or should we just go get him ourselves?" Lup saunters up past Magnus a hair, her grin daring them to let her.

Barry keeps one eye on the scene unfolding, just barely able to hear the guard's reply.

"You are not permitted here. Leave now, Jean is busy," one says.

Barry glances back toward the Resolver's building. Not yet. Let the guard get out of there first. He looks to Taako and Lucretia.  _ Wait. _

"Come on, man, we just want to talk." Magnus looks to Lup, who nods slightly. "Just have somebody grab him for like, two seconds."

The first guard raises his weapon, pointed at Magnus. "We said  _ leave _ ."

Lup's hand starts moving for her bag. She's already running possible counterattacks in her head; there's sulphur and salt-peter in the smaller pockets, a flame might be distracting enough to pull the heat off of Mags. They just have to get Jean’s damned guards out here. 

"There's a threat. To the northeast, another civilisation. We saw them when we were out finding food, and we have information. This is a  _ peace offering _ ." And it is, in a roundabout way. At least that's how Lup justifies the frightened look she's put on the guards' faces. It's for their own good, a moment of fear for a chance at life later on. The two confer in hushed tones, and the one not pointing a crossbow at Magnus nods and hurries off.

Barry watches this unfold nervously. One guard out of the picture for Lup and Magnus, hopefully to bring Jean and ideally the others out and give Luci and Taako an opening.

Oh  _ shit. _ These folks are taking Lup  _ real _ seriously; two from the Resolver’s building and more from another building come hurrying out in Lup and Magnus’s direction. Devon had said there were often only two left with the Light during mealtime, and Barry hopes that holds true today. Jean emerges from the second building and watches, sporting a new set of furs and an accessory or two that look like an upgrade even beyond what Leanna had worn.

“Go, go, go, be careful,” Barry urges. Taako and Lucretia Blink out of sight as the villagers reach Lup and Magnus.

“Tell us of this threat,” one of the guards from Resolving demands.

"Ohh, yeah, the uhh..."

"There are others to the northeast." Lup interrupts Magnus's stammering, a new nervous swish to her tail. Showtime. "They're, they're more like you, not us. A bigger group than you. We ran into them up north--"

Jean raises a hand to silence her. "There are no others. We have been north." One guard eyes them suspiciously, and leans to whisper something to Jean. When they turn back to Lup and Magnus, there's a crossbow bolt pointed to them. "Defense, return to your positions. What is the true nature of your business here?"

Several of the guards head back to their buildings, leaving only the two stationed at village limits, crossbows raised, and a very untrusting Jean.

Oh  _ shit. _ They need to get out of there, and  _ fast, _ before someone gets hurt. Barry glances anxiously at the guards heading back to the Resolving building, then back at Lup and Magnus and the guards holding their crossbows.

There’s only one chance left, if Taako and Lucretia can get the Light and get out undetected in the next few seconds and Lup and Magnus can defuse the situation...

He’s close enough to run either way. He can’t tell which situation will need backup. He feels sick with worry. Come on, guys, get the Light.

A shout from the Resolving building sends Taako and Lucretia sprinting out the door and seemingly into thin air.

“They’re lying,” Jean snarls. “I told you they were treacherous!” There’s a flurry of movement, and before Barry can even fully parse what’s happening he’s running toward what looks like his worst nightmare come true.

Magnus looks back in horror as Lup's leg crumples under her. The bolt missed her gut, but she knows enough about anatomy to know that that amount of blood should definitely be  _ inside _ of a person, and femurs deffo don't bend that way. Before she can even try to pull herself up, Magnus has scooped her up and started running for the trees, chased down by calls of "After them!" and "Get eyes on the Light!" 

Shock takes care of her for the most part. The jostle of Magnus's sprint hurts, but moreso she just feels cold. And tired. She knows she's hurt, she should stay awake, but her eyes are so heavy, and it takes so much energy just to look around her. There's a disorienting flash of energy, and they're back to the Starblaster, still running.  _ Dimension Door? That's Barry... or Luci? Are they back? _ "Lup, Lup can you hear me? Lup talk to me." 

_ Hah, that's a silly question. _ Magnus sets her down in the medbay, frantically calling for Merle over the intercom. "I'm good... I'm... Did they get it?... Are they coming?" If they got the Light, there's gonna be some angry denizens at their door  _ very _ soon. "I gotta, we gotta move... the ship..." She pushes up on her elbows, even that effort making her see stars.

Barry runs after Magnus, panting out the spell to get them out of harm’s way, rushing to her side as Magnus sets her down. Tourniquet—now, Merle’s on his way, but he can do that much and hope that it’s enough.

She tries to get up, that’s not happening, anyone can see that leg’s broken and she’s damn close to bleeding out. “Lie still,” Barry tells her, still trying to stop the bleeding. “You’re hurt bad, I’ve just gotta—“ he fights back the full-blown panic attack his brain wants to do. That wouldn’t help one bit.

The tourniquet  _ fucking hurts _ . She knows that means it's doing its job but  _ gods dammit _ \-- she grits her teeth, head falling back to the pillow. Then Taako's beside her, prying her fingers up from the bloodstained sheet to squeeze tight in his own. "You're gonna be fine, Lulu, look at me. You're gonna be okay."

Merle bursts through the door. “Aw, shit,” he swears, hurrying to Lup’s side. He checks the tourniquet. “Okay, I gotta cauterize this too, this is bad news,” he says.

Taako’s already at Lup’s head, pushing back her hair. Barry moves up to her other side. “Hang on, you’ve got this,” he manages. This is shit. She’s in shock, and Barry’s gut twists. She has to be okay, she has to.

"That was... real fuckin' rude of 'em..." Lup blinks back the stars in her vision, only moderately confident that she's actually saying things. Taako's hand feels so warm; is he shaking or is that her? "Did you... did you get the Light?..." 

Taako shoots Barry a look that Lup can't quite parse-- Is he mad? Worried, probably. The room's started swimming, and maybe if she just closes her eyes a minute the vertigo will calm down...

“Lup? Stay with us, stay with us, it’s okay,” Barry says. He rests his hand over hers. “Let us deal with everything else, just focus on getting better,” he says.

He catches Taako’s look—fuck. They must’ve run out of time. They can’t pull this trick again, and for sure there’s no hope for reconciliation. They can’t take the Light by force...fuck. They’re not gonna get it.

They failed.

Barry forces a smile. This isn’t Lup’s fault. It was a necessary risk. He’s worried and upset that she’s hurt but it’s not her fault. He remembers their last run-in with the village and their time under the stars afterward. She needs care, not the overflow of his fear. “You did amazing,” he says. “I mean that, you bought so much time. No risks while you heal though, promise? You more than earned some rest.”

"Barold, I need a hand here." Merle doesn't move his eyes from his work. The bulk of the bleeding has gone down, but that's not a wound that's gonna heal on its own. "Third shelf under the Royal Ivy, I need pins and sutures. Taako, buddy, you're not gonna want to see this." 

" _ Bullshit _ , Taako's good right here." He doesn't chance a look at Lup's leg though. Her hand's no longer at risk of breaking his fingers, which only serves to worry him further. "Lulu? Lup, wake up... Lup?" He scrambles to find a pulse, a breath,  _ anything _ . "No, no, no, no--  _ fuck _ okay, Merle? She's breathing but she's not waking up-- Merle?"

" _ Taako. _ Yellin's not helpin' me or her do what we gotta do. If you're gonna be here, you're gonna help. Barry, how're we doin' on those pins?" 

The process takes time, and a great deal of it. Lucretia and Magnus call the boys out to discuss moving the ship, but since the Light remains in the village and no one seems to come for them, the risk of moving is too high. It's several hours later, when the medbay is cleaned up and Merle has headed to bed that Lup regains consciousness-- and immediately regrets it. A double dose of health potions can only do so much. " _ Fuck... me... running... _ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Y'all ever Remember Where You Were When about something? 'Cause I still remember where I was when SA messaged me the extent of Lup's injuries, I'm just saying. When I tell you I gasped!
> 
> SA: Listen, it's not that I love to hurt our girl. It's just that she Does Things! And sometimes those things have consequences. One of these days she'll realize she's not the only one that has to deal with them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have posted  
> the chapter  
> that is about  
> the Blupjeans
> 
> whom  
> you were probably  
> hoping  
> would communicate
> 
> Forgive us  
> they are inevitable  
> so sweet  
> and so dumb

Barry gives a little start in the chair where he slumps drowsily. He’d decided to stay put, only leaving to get himself cleaned up and coming back to sit by Lup’s side, opposite Taako. He wanted to be there when she woke, if only to make sure that she wasn’t left alone even long enough to fetch a glass of water. Taako had dozed off in his chair under reassurances that Barry would stay and wake him when Lup woke.

“Lup?” he says. “You’re awake, oh thank fuck. Had me worried there.” He smiles at her and gently rubs her forearm. “Hey, Taako,” he says, jolting the dozing elf, “wake up, bud, she’s awake.”

Taako's up in an instant, scooting his chair up to her. "Hey sis, how're ya feeling?" His tone is oddly soft, reserved for Twin Reassurance and very little else. Lup tries to pull herself up to sit, and Taako's immediately got a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. "You're not gonna wanna do that, Merle's gotchu looking like a pin cushion."

She peeks under the covers, and though she's been thoroughly bandaged, the pins are visibly tenting the wrappings. The whole ordeal is far too sterile-looking for her, so she pulls her blanket back up around her. "Still the same year then. What... What time is it?"

Barry’s smile widens a bit. “Still the same day, even, you were out a few hours. It’s just past nightfall,” he says. “Anything besides the leg need Merle’s attention?”

Barry doesn’t know what she needs, aside from rest. He feels helpless. He feels like going back to the village, finding Jean and the guards, and tearing them apart with his bare hands.

She for sure doesn’t need anyone near her in a murderous rage.

She might need a drink, though. Or an extra pillow. Or someone to listen or tell funny stories.

He can do that.

Lup wiggles her fingers, then her toes, and winces. "Nope, no, just the leg. Gods, they got me good, huh?" She cracks a smile, earning an eyeroll from Taako. 

"Yeah, I thought you were  _ dead _ ? For a second there? So maybe chill with the goofs ‘til you can walk, okay Dingus?" 

"Okay, okay." She gives his hand a squeeze. "So uhhh, how long is that, exactly? Cause cha'girl could go for some food. And a shower, probably."

Barry winces in sympathy. “Food’s doable, walking though...that’ll be a while, that bolt really wrecked up your femur. Merle got you all put back together, but it needs time, too,” he says.

“Don’t make me sit on you,” Taako warns teasingly.

"Boo. Guess you're gonna have to spar with Mags for me, bro..." She smiles, but it does reach her eyes. A while. That doesn't sound good. Bones are what... weeks to heal? And with the look of pity Barry's giving her, she's looking at longer. Great.

Maybe they'll let her up soon with crutches or something? Being lazy for a bit, sure, whatever, but not doing  _ anything _ for probably  _ months _ is going to drive her mad. Even if she doesn't get to help with stuff in the lab for a bit, if she could just sit on a counter and watch, that'd be enough.

Barry can already tell this is gonna suck for her. Burning her hands at the beginning of the second cycle was rough enough, even though Merle had gotten it down to something manageable. Being confined to bed for that long though? She’ll hate that. She needs to  _ do _ things, she’s rarely still.

Without the Light, there’s not a lot he can do, either, apart from picking persimmons and trying to strategize and watch out in case the village becomes (more) openly aggressive.

Hmmm. Food first, but then, after she’s had some time to recover...

“How about food for now, then when you’re up to it we can talk strategy, maybe a bit of necro even? We could go over some of the theory anyway, just on paper, right here. They didn’t hurt your brain, after all,” he says.

Taako raises an eyebrow at ‘necro’, but Lup looks genuinely grateful for the offer. As much as she'd love to get up and do stuff, talking a bit of science would at least keep her mind occupied while the rest of her healed. 

"Hell yeah. All of the above. Maybe not... super thinking-heavy stuff in the middle of the night, but... I could go ham on a grilled cheese right now." She gives Taako her best puppy eyes, to which he responds by ruffling her hair and laughing. 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Barold, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Like  _ stand _ ." He snorts and heads out for the kitchen.

“Awesome.” Barry feels relief surge through him. She’s talking, enthusiastic even. She’s not lying there unconscious and within a hair’s breadth of bleeding out. “It’ll be even easier working together if we’ve both got a grasp on the fundamentals at least.” 

He grins as Taako musses her hair. “You got it,” he tells Taako. He scoots his chair a bit closer.

Lup closes her eyes, the focus of  _ talking _ already taking its toll. This is gonna suck. "You should get some sleep, Barry. 'Specially if we've got necro class tomorrow." She cracks a grin in his direction. Why is he still here? Taako, duh, but Barry should be getting sleep, in his own bed. Not sat up in some tragic metal chair waiting for her to get better.

She looks tired, worn through, but she thinks  _ he _ should sleep. She’s right, but. “I will, promise. I couldn’t just...you know, leave you there unconscious. Wanted to make sure you were okay, or well, at least as okay as you can be, considering.” He gives her a bashful look. He’s worried about her, completely legitimate, and seeing her open her eyes is helping lift at least a little of that worry, even if she does still have a long way to go toward healing.

Eventually, Lup gets her grilled cheese (perfection, natch), and everyone gets more or less to bed, with the twins somehow making one cot work for the two of them. 

—- 

The first few days aren't so bad, really. Her leg aches, as is expected, but Barry comes by bearing books to study and stories to laugh about. So really, there's not an awful lot of change from what she'd be doing anyways. 

And then the cabin fever sets in. 

Lup's been in bed barely a week, and she's starting to go stir crazy. The crew has gone out to gather fruit, save Lucretia who's probably on the deck keeping a look out and/or reading. Gods, that would be nice. It's probably so nice out. Lup hasn't felt the sun on her face in  _ days _ , she realises. It's been a week! She's probably well on her way to getting better, and she's stuck in this too-white room with its too-white bed and too-white chairs and  _ Fuck it, I'm getting out of here. _

A Mage Hand is plenty to click open the closet-- Merle lost the key early in year two, and it's been unlocked ever since-- and rummage around for the pair of crutches collecting cobwebs in the back until they come clattering to the too-white floor.  _ Fuck yeah, freedom. _ Just a quick hobble around, stretch her leg, maybe make some tea or something, just to give her  _ something _ to do. She'll be back in bed before they even know she's been gone.

Meantime, Barry sets a basket of giant fruit on the kitchen counter. It's really fortunate that they found the greens and the elk, the persimmons are beginning to show signs of going out of season as fall begins in earnest. He washes his hands in the sink. The others are finishing up, but he's filled his basket fast and come back a bit early.

He'll just swing in to check on Lup, maybe she'll have some ideas on how to preserve some of the fruit. Jam, maybe? Canning? What all would they need for that? Wonder what winter's like here, anyhow? He heads for the medbay, reaching the door just in time to hear a clatter. 

He rushes in to see a Mage Hand dragging a pair of crutches across the floor. "Whoa-ho, Lup, wait--easy, before you break your other leg!" he admonishes. He crosses the room to her side.

The Mage Hand is gone in a poof, Barry's question met with wide eyes and mouth agape.  _ Fuck. Shit. _ She's well and thoroughly caught, no real way of talking herself out of this one. At least it wasn't Merle she'd have to explain herself to. Or Taako. Either of them would absolutely give her an earful. 

"I... Hey... Uhh... How's... the fruit? You uhh... ffffffind... uhmm..." From her position, feet dangling off the side of the bed, not even reaching the floor, she's forced to look up to meet his chastising gaze. She gives him her best "Ya Caught Me" smile.

"The fruit is fruit, and it is picked, basketed, and in the kitchen. Let me help you scoot back in," Barry answers. He tries to keep his tone level. She's an adult and he's not the boss of her, true. He shouldn't scold or snap, but he can't just stand back and let her hurt herself even worse.

He also can't just toss her back into bed, broken leg and all, without so much as a by-your-leave. He pauses, offering an arm for leverage. "Hey," he asks gently. "If I broke my leg and tried to walk around before it had a chance to heal, what would you say to me?"

Lup huffs, looking like a kicked puppy. A very ticked-off, kicked puppy. So probably more of a kicked cat. She looks pointedly at his offered arm, then back at him. "I'm good to  _ sit _ , Barold. And I'd  _ probably _ make sure you were doing alright in- in your  _ prison cell _ of a medbay. I'm not gonna break my leg walking to the  _ bathroom _ or-- or sitting outside?" 

She shouldn't be mad, he's just trying to look out for her. But she's a fully-grown elf, entirely capable of worrying about herself, thank you very much. Lup shakes her head and brings the Mage Hand back to pick up the scattered crutches. "I'm okay, Barry. But this  _ bed _ is boring."

She's mad. It's totally understandable, he expected nothing less. He can't just--surely she understands that he's just trying to help? "I know it sucks," he sighs. "I'm sorry. Will you at least let me come with you if you're gonna try? Just so you won't be alone if you need help. If you really wanna sit outside--" he plots the course in his mind, it could be doable, even if worst came to worst and she needed to be carried back in. "I can't tell you what to do, but can I at least help make it safer?"

"That's not…” She huffs, tries again. ”It doesn't have to be out _ side _ , just out of  _ here _ . Do you know how many tiles are on this ceiling, Barry? I do. Two hundred and four. Two hundred and four plain, white tiles that I  _ cannot _ keep staring at." She snatches the crutches from her Mage Hand and waves it out of existence, giving Barry a look that dares him to try her. 

"That's uh, that's a lot of tiles. I think I'd be sick of 'em too," he acquiesces. He backs up, just a step, still well within range to catch her if her legs won't hold her. The look she gives him is clear--she doesn't want him to coddle her, and he gets that.

"You can come with, but I don't need help, okay?" She doesn't intend to be mean about it, there's just only so much isolation a girl can take. And memories of bare white walls are only compounding her anxious energy. She sets her good foot down, waiting for Barry to get out of the way. Standing is... okay it hurts. Gravity is not her friend; she can veritably feel the pins creaking as the whole ordeal shifts into this new position. But she pushes that down, takes a steady breath, and makes her wobbly exodus.

"I'll just walk alongside you, is that cool?" Barry offers, still trying to evaluate where the line between “close enough to be safe” and “hovering” is.

She nods, some of the fire gone from her face. A little lightheaded, pretty painful, but she's up. No matter how little of a distance she puts between her and this room, it's a win if she's not stuck in bed. 

The kitchen is close enough, but by the time she gets even that far she's feeling the strain. She can lower herself steadily into a seat at the table, though, and catch her breath. Luckily no one else seems to be back yet to chastise her. "I'm just gonna, take a sit. You don't have to stay if, y'know, the fruit needs ya. I'll live."

He grins. "Behold," he says dramatically, gesturing to the basket. "I brought a bunch in already. I could go for some tea, though, soothe those fruit-picking muscles." He fills the kettle and sets it to boil. "Want some?"

She rolls her eyes and leans the crutches against the table. "Yeah, alright." 

It's hard to be annoyed at the care they're all taking with her. They mostly did the same with Mags, to be fair. But that was much worse, really, so why were they still so worried about her? She's all pinned into place like a fancy hairdo, and she totally just proved she can walk; there's nothing to worry about! Yeah, it'd be nice to hop up on the counter and prep fruit and drink tea and chat, but that's not  _ really _ necessary. 

_ Unless... _

Barry pulls down a couple of mugs from the cupboard as the kettle heats up. He turns to Lup. "Hey, I was gonna ask you, any ideas on preserving these?" he asks, gesturing to the basket of persimmons. "It's been colder at night, I doubt they grow year round. We should probably come up with a plan."

He looks at the kettle impatiently. Any old time now, it always does take a while to boil.

"Uhh, sure. I mean we can definitely do preserves. Ya think they'd pickle well? You'd be surprised what does..."

Alright, the counter's not that far up. Jumping is probably not a great idea, but if she pulls a chair up... Okay, yeah, totally. One crutch on the bad side, the other hand free to snatch up a chair and pull it over. It swings, narrowly avoiding smacking into her--  _ ahh shit, hello gravity. _

She aborts mission, swinging the chair back where it came from and plopping her butt back down before Barry can see the red seeping through her wrappings. Probably just a stitch popped, but this whole ordeal has proven that even Barry Bluejeans can worry way too much over her if he sets his mind to it. Lup places her hands strategically over the spot as the kettle starts to steam. Nothing to see here, totally fine, one-hundo-percent chillin'.

Barry turns as he hears the chair being moved back. “What are—“ oh  _ no??? _ Why is she holding her leg that way, did she overdo it on the way in here or was she trying—?

The crutch is in a different spot from where she left it. She must’ve tried to get up and run into trouble. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

"Nothing! Nothing, I'm good! Just waitin' for tea." Her innocent smile is just a tad strained. She's not about to let Barry see her hurting and force her back into the medbay. Not when she's on her way to proving that she can handle a bit of movement. "You uhh, you need any help with that?"

That’s...extremely not the whole truth, Barry can tell. Equally certain is that if he doesn’t play along at least a little she’ll likely end up taking an even bigger risk and wind up even more hurt. The image of her passed out in the medbay, or worse this time, fallen on the floor in the hallway without anyone to help her up, haunts him. The kettle whistles.

“I’ve got it,” he assures her. He pauses. “You’ll tell me if you’re in too much pain, right? Please? I promise not to overreact, I just don’t want you to get hurt worse and be stuck in medbay longer.”

“I’m  _ fine _ , Barry. Don’t worry about it. You wanna, take that outside? Is Keesha still out there?” When he goes to fix the tea she takes the opportunity to Prestidigitate the red from her bandages. Nothing for him to worry about if there’s nothing there! 

She stands, making sure to school her expression by the time he turns back to her. It feels shitty, but a hundred times better than triple checking her tile count.

Better she go out with him and Lucretia close by than that she make a break for it, as she’d pretty obviously been planning. “As long as you’re fine,” he says, searching her face and posture. She’s not entirely fine, but she is standing and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of fainting, so that’s good news.

“I think she is. I’ll carry the tea,” he says. And be ready to chuck it and catch her if she needs it. This is stressful as fuck, if she gets hurt again? Merle and Taako will kill him, for sure, and he’d not be convinced he didn’t deserve it. “Slow, though, k?”

“Totally, chill. Lead the way.” She slowly follows after him, face quickly contorting in pain when she attempts to do stairs. Even the slightest pressure necessary to steady herself has her feeling faint, but she can  _ do _ this. It’s just stairs, she’s done these exact ones a million times before— she’s not going to let them stop her today. 

So what if she’s a bit pale at the top of the steps, she’s  _ fine _ . The dim sun hits her face, and it’s enough to distract her from the dull throb of gravity’s toll on her leg. It’s worth every popped stitch.

Barry turns as she finishes the last few stairs. He feels like he's being pushed backward step by step; before long he'll reach an inevitable wall. She's clearly in pain, she's being stubborn about it, her face is drained of color and she's gonna jostle something just right or start to bleed again or wind up with an infection and then what?

He walks a little ways out on the deck and sets down the tea. "Here, lean on me while you're getting situated," he says. He holds out his arms to steady her.

Gods dammit, why does no one trust her to handle herself? “I’m  _ fine, Barry _ . Let  _ go _ -“ She yanks her arm away and stumbles back, crutch catching on the wooden deck and sending her flat on her ass. Lup doesn’t cry out, but the pain on her face does it for her. There’s no doubt that those stitches are as good as done for, her past Prestidigitation doing nothing to hide the pins that have popped clean through her bandaging. She bows over, her instinct to hold the hurt steady but experience telling her that’ll only make things worse. 

“Gods...  _ dammit _ !” Her white-knuckled fist slams the deck, and she bites back the harshest of her words. “I— fuck, I  _ had it _ !” They’re just going to throw her back in the medbay now, perfect. Her one shot at proving she  _ had it _ , fucking blown ‘cause Barold here wanted to be a hero. It’s unclear if her head aches from pain or anger, but at this point it’s all melding together into red hot frustration.

_ Fuck! _ "Lup! I'm sorry--fuck," Barry says. He kneels next to her. She's bleeding through the bandage, face twisting in pain, and she's  _ mad. _ He doesn't blame her a bit.

Barry takes a deep breath. It won't help for him to panic, she can't be expected to be the steady one here. At the same time he gets that she wants to feel in control of her own body--even more understandable while it's currently doing a bunch of shit she doesn't want. "Okay," he says. "It's gonna be okay. If you can tell me what you need, I'll do it. Okay?"

"Just  _ stop! _ Just. Stop. Let me--  _ fuck _ ." She watches Lucretia round a corner, and mentally kisses her shot at freedom goodbye. Her dressings are well on their way to soaked through, they'll need changed and she's probably looking at plenty of new stitches-- Gods, if something got actually jostled around in there she's going to have some choice words for Fate. Once the others hear about this she's never going to know the end of it. 

Lup does take Lucretia's hand though, pointedly ignoring Barry's. Once she's back on two crutches though, she has two sets of worried questions fired her way. "I'm fine, Luce, really. I'm just gonna... I guess make sure it's all still one piece. No, no, I've got it, promise." Why do they have to look at her like that? Like she's little and broken and  _ helpless _ ? It's all this  _ help _ that's tripping her up in the first place! 

She grits her teeth and swings back around. Hopefully no one's dumb enough to follow her.

That's fair. That's entirely fair, he did push when she'd made it clear she didn't want help. She did  _ need _ help, though, and that was the hard part. It was hard to watch her in pain, and harder to stomach the idea that he'd provoked her into falling.

As she heads back down, he follows at a short distance. He's still not willing to let her wind up stranded someplace, and why start making good emotional decisions now? He'd much rather have her spitting fire at him than lying unconscious and still again.

Lucretia watches her go, giving Barry a quick ‘you got her?’ look before shaking her head and reluctantly heading back to her post. Whatever conversation  _ those two _ are about to have, her sense of self-preservation is steering her away from. 

Lup, however, is one spark away from ripping somebody a new one. And as luck would have it, a spark she receives. She's deaf, not an  _ idiot _ \-- one elf doesn't cast two shadows. 

"I said I'm  _ fine. Hallwinter. _ " She pauses, leaning heavy on the crutches. "You wanna help so bad? Go. Away."

"If you think I'm not gonna make sure you get back okay, I don't know what to tell you," Barry says stubbornly, but not unkindly. "I'll stay back here and leave you alone once you're settled, if you want, but--" he swallows. "This was at least partly my fault. I'm really sorry. If you wanna be mad at me, I get it. I just wanna walk back with you and make sure you're alright, please?"

She turns, eyes daring him to test her. "Gods, how many times do I have to say it? I'm  _ fine _ ! I-- I just wanted to get out of that  _ stupid room _ , and now I gotta... gotta deal with this." She gestures widely, shaking her head. She'd tried to be nice and just politely decline the help, but obviously that's not enough. "Y'know, I had it? Until you wanted to ‘help’? I don't  _ need _ you to help me. I've gotten along just fine without you, and that's not changing now. I don't need a babysitter."

That stings. This isn’t about Barry’s feelings, but it stings. “Sorry,” he tries, but she’s already turned and headed off to the medbay.

Lup huffs. Okay, that feels a little mean. But so is treating her like a helpless kid, right? She storms off down the hall, probably irresponsibly fast, but Barry'll find something to chastise her about anyways, might as well give him some low-hanging fruit. She shuts the door of the medbay behind her, taking a well deserved moment to acknowledge the pain before searching the drawers for suturing tools.  _ This is gonna suck... _

Barry runs a hand through his hair. There’s no good course of action here. He’ll feel equally bad crossing her will or letting her get even more hurt.  _ Godsdammit. _

She doesn’t need a babysitter. She’s right, she doesn’t, but he’d tried to be a friend.  _ Don’t do this again, Barry, _ he chides himself. Maybe she just needs a bit of space, he reflects as he shakes himself and heads to the kitchen to fetch two fresh mugs of tea. He’s pretty sure she’s not about to throw away the whole boy over this, she’s just angry, maybe not even all at him. She’s fully justified in her anger, too. Even if it’s not pretty, who says she owes anyone pretty?

Well, it’s not pretty. Her pins are all in place, it looks like, but it’s a good thing she made it back when she did by the look of the  _ everything else _ . Better to have it all cleaned up when everyone gets back to chew her out for ‘recklessness’, as if that’s at all what went down. 

She threads the needle, bites down on a pack of gauze— Gods, why couldn’t anyone leave well enough alone? Help, yeah, she can take that, that’s  _ nice _ even! But what about her said “I can’t make my own decisions, please do everything for me regardless of my wishes!” ? It hurts; no one seems to trust her judgement, or even her most basic capabilities. It’s ridiculous! She got on this mission just like the rest of them, she deserves to make her own damn decisions!

Barry cautiously opens the medbay door, sticks a hand in and flickers the lights to grab her attention. He leans around the doorjamb slowly, leading with the tea and trying valiantly not react in horror to whatever he sees inside.

She ties off the last of her stitches as the lights flicker. Barry, back at it again with the condescension, huh? She sighs, packing away the rubbish and tools. 

“I’ll go if you want, but I brought your tea,” he says, then braces himself for whatever happens.

“Do what you want,  _ you’re going to anyway _ ...” she mutters that last bit in Elvish— as much as she’s upset, she doesn’t need to actively piss him off. He means well, is the thing, and that’s somehow  _ worse _ .

Barry brings the tea in and sets her mug at her bedside. He politely ignores the obvious fact that she’s clearly had to restitch  _ something _ —hopefully that’s all it was, just a few stitches.

“Is it okay if I drink this here?” he asks, gesturing to a chair with his own mug. “It’d kinda suck to drink it all alone.”

Lup shrugs. She replaces her bandages, eyeing the mug on the table. A peace offering.

She takes it, feeling suddenly guilty for her actions. She doesn’t deserve his distrust, but he doesn’t fully deserve her wrath either. As much as she wants someone to blame for all of her frustrations, making Barry her scapegoat isn’t the answer. She takes a couple Fant-acetaminophen with a swig of tea and a hopefully less acidic look.

Barry settles into the chair and takes a sip of tea. She’s not yelling or bleeding, so this is certainly progress. 

“So. I fucked up. After I told you I’d do better, even. I’d yell at me, too,” he says after a moment. He pauses again. “Looks like you patched it up, though, that’s a relief. You might need that leg to kick my ass sometime.” He offers a little smile with the half-joke.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m fairly capable.” She raises an eyebrow, as if he’d challenge that fact. But she cracks half a smile. “You sure you wanna put that idea in my head, old man? I could kick your butt with or without two legs.”  _ And I oughtta _ , she doesn’t say.

He snorts a little laugh. “When you’re back on your feet, maybe, go for it. I’ll fight back but you’ll probably win fair and square.” That could be fun, actually, she spars with Magnus, what if they— _ okay, those are for later thoughts, bud. _

What had made her think she could stay mad at him? She’d love to; his distrust had caused her enough grief in the past hour alone. But even after she’d yelled and sworn at him, he still risked her ire to make sure she was alright. It’s infuriating. And endearing. 

“Look, I was an ass. And you don’t deserve...  _ all _ of that,” She yields. “But can we just... Were all adults. Even if some of us don’t look a day over 75. I’m competent enough to make decisions for myself, okay? If I need help, I can tell you.”

He nods. “I know all that, at least my brain does. I just got—I got scared. You bled a  _ lot, _ before, for a minute there I wasn’t sure—anyway, you make the decisions for you, got it. You’re the Lup expert. I’ll do better,” he says, his tone in firm agreement. He sets his mug down and holds out his hand to shake. “Truce?”

She takes his hand, "Yeah, truce." It's fair, to be scared for a crewmate, she's not mad about that. And yeah, blood is deffo worrying-- her state a week ago one-hundred percent warranted help. But she's better now. At least, she's getting there.

"Thank you. For caring. I  _ do _ appreciate it, in... reasonable quantities. Like this?" She motions to their mugs, a nice thing done for her not because she  _ can't _ but because he  _ could _ . "This is chill. Just, y’know... When it comes to  _ is Lup okay? _ Lup can decide that."

“Okay. I trust you,” he agrees. “And I do care, you’re always welcome to that, for sure. Can’t help it, really.” He smiles a little. “Hopefully you’ll heal quick, I know it’s sucky. Get back out there and, I don’t know, maybe there’s another angle we haven’t thought of. Maybe just hang on for the ride.” Maybe stargaze together, maybe he’ll be able to leave the ship after dark again with her nearby. Maybe get up to all kinds of lab shenanigans, maybe he won’t feel sick looking at the empty chairs around the dinner table.

"Thank you." Just hanging on for the ride isn't exactly high on her list, but healing up and getting back out there, she can do. "You're not gonna... y'know, rat on me, are ya? I mean, Luce probably will, but... I do wanna be let out of here at  _ some _ point." She laughs, but there’s a bit of actual worry there. They couldn't keep her in here forever, but Merle and Taako... they might try.

He laughs in relief. “Gods, okay—it sounds shitty but I was already thinking whether we could make it some sort of secrecy pact, I mean you know Taako’d kill me, Merle probably would too, if they found out. Like, I know I’d come back, but imagine coming back from being dead and the guy who killed you’s in your face? Wild.” This situation is fraught enough without the addition of petty murder, but the absurdity of that thought has Barry laughing harder.

"Someone's gotta swear Luce to secrecy. Or like, convince her I totally didn't bork it and I'm just walkin' around fine?" That's probably too much to ask from Barry, but she gives it her best puppy eyes anyways. "I-- I'll be  _ chill _ , and totally not reckless. I-- I'll even let you help if ya really want just. Barold? I cannot stay here. I'm going to go mad. I'm sorry I'm an ass but to be fair... I  _ did _ do it." She huffs, feeling like she's asking for some sort of prison break, when all she wants is to sleep in her own bed. "Two. Hundred. And four. Barry. Please."

Oh, Barry can't resist those eyes, plus she's  _ right, _ Lucretia can't give it away. "I'll do it. I think--Luce saw how worried I was, if I'm like 'she's fine, just kinda irritated about it, don't bring it up'...I think that could work. And as long as you feel ready...maybe I could walk close just in case, and you could do what you do. Fresh air'll probably be good, huh? And sunlight." 

If they're cooperating with each other it'll be even safer, he reasons, and she's said that she can tell him when she needs help. This'll be way better than her slipping out without anyone knowing.

Plus...he really can't resist those eyes and he  _ misses _ her and honestly? Her confinement to the medbay has had a spillover effect. He's barely gone outside the ship in a week, apart from picking fruit. Without Lup next to him, he's gone back to 15 hours of terror a night. That's nothing to a broken femur, naturally, but it is making him a little desperate.

"I'll grab her as soon as I see her." He smiles, then holds out a pinky like a child with a promise. "Co-conspirators," he teases.

_ Yes _ . Lup links her pinky with his, leaning in close with a whisper and a grin. "Thank you." If they can convince Lucretia, there's a decent chance the others will buy it too. And if she can just Not Be A Doofus, they just might let her keep her freedom. 

She leans back, assessing what's left to do with her ding dang leg. The whole deal should probably get wrapped up, more so nobody else has to look at it, but it seems like everything else will hold. "You uhh, see if you can catch her before they get back? I'll finish wrapping this up, and I'll wait right here, I swear. As long as you promise to come back for me, okay?"

"Yeah, uh, for sure, it's probably best to get her in on the grift quick. I promise I'll come back for you, uh...can't stop me, apparently." He gives her a wry, teasing look, trying to cloak the depth of his meaning in a joke. He gets up, scooping up his empty mug.

He wanders out of the medbay and finds Lucretia on the deck. He leans against the rail. "All quiet?" he asks. At her nod, he continues. "I checked on Lup. She's fine, just lost her balance and her temper a little, no harm done."

Lucretia blinks. That had looked like a more serious fall than Barry's describing. But if he's checked with Lup, and she says she's okay, well, she ought to know. "That's good news," she replies, "I was concerned."

Barry nods. "Yeah, same here," he says. "She's still kinda mad about it? It's probably best we don't mention it, no need to embarrass her."

Lucretia nods slowly. That seems like a weird request, but she can understand not wanting to embarrass Lup. "That seems kindest," she agrees.

"Cool," Barry says. "Oh, man, I was gonna tell you, you really missed it earlier, I picked the biggest persimmon, you wouldn't believe. I've literally never seen a piece of fruit like that  _ ever, _ " Barry says, rapidly changing the subject so as not to get too suspicious.

It's hard not to feel a little ridiculous when the door closes and Lup's alone with her thoughts. Again. She stares up at two hundred and four identical white tiles, waiting for her knight in shining bluejeans to let her out of her sterile tower. It's not fair to think like that, though, and she knows it. Barry's just trying to keep her in one piece, and yeah she should probably be trying on that front a little harder, but that's just? Not Lup? She's meant for action, and incredibly capable of it, if decades of practice and study are any indication. She's not made to sit in bed for days on end, and that's all this is. It's not his fault, or hers, or anyone’s. And that's the most annoying part of it all. 

When Barry returns, Lup's leg is freshly bandaged up and her mug empty. She's staring up at the ceiling, for hopefully the last time for a while. "Hey, miss me? How'd Luce buy it?"

Barry is relieved to find Lup sitting...well, maybe not terribly comfortably, but at minimum bandaged up and seeming okay. "I did," he says, blushing slightly and trying to make the admission sound casual and failing extremely hard. "I think she's on board? I told her you were fine and not to mention it, and then we talked about persimmons for a minute, you know. I'd say it seemed normal but, oof, what is that anymore, right?"

"True, true..." She swings her legs-- slowly-- off the bed, making grabby hands for the crutches. 

"Did you wanna try the deck? Or maybe back to the kitchen? You're the boss," he says as he passes the crutches over.

"Ohh I am now? Like the sound of that." 

Barry watches as she slowly stands up. He blushes slightly: he likes the sound of her being the boss, too. It feels better that way than the alternative.

She walks-- slowly-- through the door, making a point of being super chill, like, just the most chill. No running, no sick tricks, just here to prove she can do it. And she can. It's not  _ comfortable _ by any means, but it's fine, she's  _ fine. _

"The others should be back for dinner soon, yeah? Maybe just hang in the kitchen, wait to surprise them? Y'know, show 'em how super well I'm doing?" She nudges Barry's arm, a conspiratorial hint to her voice.

"That'll be good, and it'll be nice to all eat together, too," he says. It really will, it'll be a comfort. He follows her out and they head for the kitchen. This could almost feel normal, he thinks, just heading to dinner, except that Lup was still pretty banged up. She's being careful, he can tell. Finally, the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach begins to loosen up a little. 

She'd half expected him to try to get her back in the sickbay before anyone could see her, but it seems like their game of give and take is paying off. "Yeah, that'll be real nice." She sets down at the table, hands sat in her lap all polite, feeling a little too prisoner of bullshit for her liking. But she refuses to direct her helplessness at Barry. It's her stupid leg, because of that damn guard, all on account of the ding dang Light of Creation.

Which... they would have had, had she not fucked up in the first place. 

Dammit. 

"Wanna.. do something? While we wait? I've got a deck of cards over by the oven mitts? Unless you've got like, stuff to do, I'll just chill here."  _ Wonder how many tiles are on this ceiling… _

He smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that. Whatcha wanna play?” he asks. He retrieves the cards and brings them back to the table. He pulls up a chair and passes the cards over to her. This is nice, they can just play cards and it’ll just be happy and relaxed and no one will fight or have any sort of emergency. Godsdammit do they deserve a chill game of cards after everything that’s happened. They deserve a lot more, but this is what they have.

"You ever play Fae Blitz? It's a lot to learn up front, but it's super easy once you get the hang of it." She cracks open the cards, revealing a double deck. How better to watch water boil or bread rise than with an ongoing game of cards? They were only a little wine-stained, from one too many post-dinner games, but it adds character, right?

She deals him a deck, settling back to shuffle hers and lay them out in a very solitaire-esque fashion. "So the goal's to get rid of these cards here..."

Barry watches her explain and then tries to keep up as they start, cards slapped down on the table  _ fast _ . This is  _ fun! _ He can easily see it being a favorite for her and Taako. He can also easily see that she’s beating him handily, which makes sense being as she’s the one with experience.

“Ooh! Almost,” he laughs as she narrowly beats him to plunking down a seven on a pile.

"Blitz! That was close though, you're gettin' it! If we can find more decks maybe we can get the rest of the crew in on a game? Might give Mags a heart attack, but I dunno, could be..."  _ A distraction _ . "Fun?" 

Barry imagines what that might look like—the twins moving  _ fast, _ Magnus going for it, gods, Lucretia’s  _ ambidextrous, _ she’d be a menace at it. “Totally,” he says.

They're setting up another round when footfalls start sounding down the hall. The rest of the crew returns with baskets and pocket dimensions full of fruit, and a volley of shocked expressions when they find the two of them laughing at the kitchen table. Merle waddles over, waving her attention, "What're you doing outta bed, young lady?" 

"Surprise?" She nods at the crutches, with a subtle smile to Barry. "Thought I'd come out and visit."

“She taught me Fae Blitz,” Barry supplies.

Merle gives Lup an appraising once over as Taako comes over. “You sure you’re good? Not hurting too much?”

"I'm good, bro-bro. Good enough to wipe the floor in Blitz anyway." Taako ruffles her hair, and she laughs, and it's almost like everything's back to normal. 

Except they're deffo not gonna let her help cook, huh. She can spectate though, she has to remind herself. She can talk, and hang out, and teach these fools how to lose at Fae Blitz, and that's better than the alternative. So she'll take it. "So... what's for dinner?"

\--

The months passed, at times slowly, but they did pass. The crew preserved as many persimmons as they could, and managed to survive as best they could on their rations, even when those ran thin in the winter, which necessitated a couple of harrowing hunting trips that Barry would sooner forget, given the chance.

Devon never came back to the ship.

Lucretia’s account of the failed recovery mission featured a mention of a tray, shoved halfway out from under a closed door and containing only crumbs. Barry hoped that that meant Leanna was alive, maybe Devon is with her. That’s what he told himself, anyhow.

It’s nearing the tail end of the year now, and they all stick close to the ship. Any day the world will turn grey and lifeless. Any day they’ll have to fly fast and desperate to escape, burdened with the knowledge that they’re the only ones who will.

Lup heals, slowly and and at times painfully, but she does heal. She never did get to go on the hunting trips for fear of slowing down an escape, a fact that she's not fully upset about. Weeks turn into months, crutches turn into arms around her waist, turn into carefully unaided steps. By the time the world turns ashen, she's back in the lab, foolheartedly plotting up ways to save the people of Dusk, up until the very end. 

From below deck, the only warning of change comes from a crackle of static over the intercom. "It's here. Look alive, folks," Merle's voice clicks off. Lup swears. It always feels like they should have more time.

She's the last one to the cockpit, which is to be expected when she's still sporting a sizable limp. Magnus is at the helm, looking massive in Davenport's seat. Everyone's ready for take-off, the room steeped in remorse and anxiety. 

Lup takes her seat, strapping in for what has always been a turbulent escape from the wine-dark worlds they leave behind. She has half a mind to ask Magnus to take them to the village first, give them one last shot at a decision the crew all know they won't make. It'll never work, she knows this by now. But it doesn't make leaving them to the darkness any easier.

Barry does a headcount as they gather—one, two, three, four, five, six. Wrong, but accurate for this year. Soon it will be seven again.

It’s hard to leave the village behind. It’s hard knowing that the people there will soon be coming face-to-face with the outcome of their decision. It sucks that it’s outside of Barry’s power, even the whole crew’s power, to change that.

He takes up his position for launch. Magnus is...well, he’s saying words, and they have the tone of pre-flight checks, but phrases like “this switch was...hmmm... _ up _ , yeah” and the like aren’t terribly helpful toward soothing Barry’s nerves.

As the first pillar of inky black swirled with vibrant color drops from the sky, Magnus fires up the bond engine and suddenly the ship lifts off, heading up and away from the all-consuming chaos.

And that’s when the alarm panel goes completely bonkers.

Ahh beans, that light isn't meant to be on. Lup looks around at the others, their faces either showing confusion or panic. She unbuckles herself, stumbling to Magnus's side. "Where's the problem?"

"Uhhh--" He scans the readouts, simultaneously trying to keep the ship afloat. 

Taako's next to her in an instant, signing fast through the drone of alarms--  _ Bond Room, unstable pressure. _ He smacks Mags's arm, "Eyes on the sky, thug, we'll figure it out. Nerd-jeans, Luce, let's  _ go _ !"

Barry follows Taako back to the bond room, with Lucretia trotting to keep up. When they get there Barry’s heart skips.

Those panels have been through a lot in five years, but didn’t they  _ check? _ He remembers inspecting these himself, so the seam splitting between two of them and the dented-in places in others must mean that one of those horrible black tendrils got in a solid hit. It doesn’t account for the smaller, intermittent thudding sounds, though.

Barry leaps back as an enormous crossbow bolt comes rocketing through another seam in the hull, stuck half in and half out.  _ Jesus Fantasy Christ. _

“They’re trying to shoot us down!” he exclaims in frustration, not blaming Taako or Lucretia in the least for the mixed-up slew of multilingual profanity that follows.

"Gods what are we-- we can't  _ return fire _ what... We've gotta hold this thing together til we're out of range! Luce, can you throw up some sorta--"

"Already on it!" Lucretia's eyes go a touch vacant as winding tendrils of energy weave together to paint a barrier over the cracked hull. Taako calls up to the cockpit, explaining the situation in hurried breath to Magnus and Merle. The phantasmal wall shudders with every new blow, but it holds. For now. "I can give us like ten minutes  _ max _ , guys!" Lucretia calls over the howling of alarms. "Can somebody turn that  [ ~~REDACTED~~ ] off!?"

Barry feels the ship lurch as Magnus guns it, soaring up through the atmosphere, away from this horrifyingly hostile plane, until he feels a sickening drop in his stomach as a new hail of bolts hits Lucretia’s shield.

They’re going  _ down. _

“No,  _ no! _ ” he cries as the ship loses altitude, only to be thrown violently down as the bond engine kicks and propels them back up again. Someone needs to teach Magnus how to  _ shift gears, _ because that ain’t it.

Barry scrambles to his feet and extends a hand to Lucretia, just as he feels himself torn violently through space. It’s happening. They’re making it.

Davenport’s coming back.

One second Lup's scrambling for the electric panel, the next she's flat on her ass, which also happens to be on Taako's ass. She can't even make it to her feet before they're slid halfway across the room in a heap, and Lucretia's shield sputters out of existence. There's a familiar tug in her chest, feeling in her fingers going staticky, and as soon as it's started, it's over, and she's falling again to her hands and knees on the deck of the Starblaster. Turns out an object thrown to the ground prefers to stay that way. 

The ship shudders again, careening in a wild descent before righting itself, much smoother this time.  _ Davenport _ . 

She scrambles for the cockpit, noting a much sturdier right leg-- thank the gods. Taako's right behind her, looking a little more green in the face than he ought to.

Barry does a quick head count—one, two, three, four, five, six—and runs for the cockpit to find seven. The ride is smoother now; no more impacts shake the hull, an experienced pilot at the helm. He sees Lup and Taako rushing for the door, too. She’s steady on her feet, both of them are.  _ What a relief. _

He bursts through the door to see Captain Davenport, looking shaken and bewildered, trying to focus on flying them down gradually, through the atmosphere of a new plane.

“Gods, it is good to see you, sir,” Barry says. “There’s hull damage in the bond room, but all of us are accounted for.” He pauses. “We’ve got some stories for you once you’re ready.”

"Understood. D-- uhmm-- check that we're staying in one piece, get whoever was flying in here and...  _ Who was flying this ship? _ " Lup's never seen the captain in such a state, looking like he's an inch from dissociating until he snaps back to it. Suppose being dead for a year does that to a guy. They're lucky to have him back at all. 

"Magnus was flying, sir. Taako and I can check the engine room-- Barry, grab Mags and meet us there?" she calls back as she speeds off, already pulling Taako with her.

"On my way," Barry confirms. He heads for Magnus, who hasn't yet strayed far from his usual spot.

"Gotta check the damage, come on, it was pretty rough back there," he says.

Magnus falls in with him. "Remind me to learn how to fly the ship better," he says.

Barry laughs. "You did pretty good, bud, I'm sure the Captain'll show you."

They get to the bond room and  _ oof. _ It is not pretty. Dents are the least of their worries, the crossbow bolts were small and sharp compared to the large, blunt tendrils, and with the villagers' many sharp eyes, they've been aimed for weak spots. More than one seam in the metal plates has buckled, and the bolt that Barry noticed before is still lodged firmly in place. They need to land, the sooner the better, both to tend to this and to let Davenport rest. Surely he's been through more than enough.

"Yikes," Barry mutters.

"Yeah, no  _ shit _ my guy." Taako inspects the walls with a low whistle. That's gonna need more than they can manage eventually. But as long as they can land safely, that's a problem for another day. "Lu, can I get some heat?"

"Comin' up!" After months of feeling at half-mast, the surplus of energy has her hands dripping with heat in an instant.  _ Focus, focus... _ It's too tempting to let her magic run where it wants, but she schools it back, steering clear of her own skin as well as her boys. She doesn't touch the metal herself though, Barry's drilled it into her over the year that too much too soon only ends in setbacks, and the last time they fixed the hull... No one wants a repeat. 

Taako's got a Mage Hand earning its keep, along with his own weight put against the cool end of a bulging panel, keeping it steady. "Yo Denim Wonder, care to throw in a hand?"

"You got it," Barry answers, and gets to work. Another Mage Hand joins Taako's, and soon the hull starts to look a little more like it might hold, after all.

Lup is incredible. She's heating the panels, but even for all that she's also keeping them all safe. That much power, with that tight control...it's impressive, even just in an objective way that any random person who didn't also happen to be in love with her would notice. Barry works in the glow of her, only falling back when they're done.

"Excellent. That's way better, looks like it'll hold for now anyhow. Wonder what we're flying into?" Barry says.

Lup drops her hands, breathing heavy and grinning ear to ear.  _ Good to be back _ . The seam is loosely melded together; hopefully well enough to survive landing. But with Captain back at the helm, the odds of that are looking better. 

"Better be someplace with a beach, cha'boi could use a fuckin' vacay." Taako leans dramatically against the wall, earning a snort from Lup. 

"Let's see if Dav needs us before we clock out first." Lup is practically beaming, taking off down the hall like cardio is her happy place. She feels like one of those sad, exotic birds at the circus, finally given a chance at flight. Gods, please let there be trees on this plane! Tall enough to climb and space enough to run  ~~ carefully, of course ~~ . She lets those thoughts propel her, rather than those of all the almost friends they've left behind. That will never get easier, but sometimes there's a thread of a bright side.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: They made it through the year, y'all! I'm so excited for them, and next week we start a new cycle!  
> SA: Dav's back! These fools are nowhere near perfect, but they're getting better, and they're *trying* dangit!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a brand new plane and a brand new set of challenges for the crew!

\--CYCLE 8--

Barry shakes his head to clear it as the ship breaks through into yet another reality and begins its descent. This time it was relatively smooth, with a fairly clean getaway from the thing. Luce calls it the Hunger. That seems like the best name for it, honestly, with the way it devours everything in its path.

The twins are thrown back to the railing. Lup has to blink to make sure she's seeing this right. This is… new. 

Barry crosses the deck toward Lup and Taako and looks out over this new world. It's covered, just absolutely  _ overrun  _ with giant mushrooms, with very few patches that aren't. The air is thick with their spores. Gods, these'll need to be checked out right away; mushrooms can be great, tasty even, but they can also be deadly.

"That's a lot of godsdamned mushrooms, guys," he says.

"Wonder if they're edible?" Lup mumbles, absolutely awe-struck. Taako looks more grossed out than hype, but to each their own. Better than  _ fucking persimmons _ . 

Davenport calls for a head count. When everyone is accounted for, the crew can take a moment to survey the scene below before reporting in to take readings and assess the viability of the plane. Merle takes his sweet time looking out over the forest of fungus.  _ Gross _ .

Barry's gaze keeps being drawn out the window to the forest of mushrooms below. In the darker spots, they glow softly, all kinds of colors.  _ Bioluminescence _ . This place is incredible. Lucretia's already drawing the mushrooms on a blank page in her journal, doing her best to capture the way they glow.

"How's it lookin', Cap?" Lup pours over the readouts, and they look...  _ buckwild _ . There are compounds in the air that are absolutely organic-- spores? And on top of that, the chemical makeup of this place in general is  _ troubling _ . "Ahh,  _ shit _ ..."

Barry checks through the displays. The mushroom species isn't one they had back home, but it's similar enough to one he recognizes to give him pause. "Oof. I don't think these are safe ones, folks, don't open the door yet," he advises. "They're releasing a ton of spores."

"Not looking good, huh? That's not my field, but I don't want to be the one to test out breathing here." Davenport shakes his head, bringing them in for a landing.

\--

As soon as the ship sets down, it's surrounded by curious locals. Every one of them wears a mask over their nose and mouth.

Well. Now to head out there to see what's what.

Being a research vessel, the Starblaster is luckily equipped with hazmat gear. Heeding Barry's warning, the crew suits up upon landing, before opening up communications with the locals. Through comms, the crew's worries are confirmed; this plane would have them dead in minutes without proper filtration. The mushrooms prove to be the cause as well. Apparently there has been some sort of quiet war, with one side fighting to tear down the fungal forest, and the other working to keep it alive.  _ Bipartisans. Lovely. _

"We have to go out. Collect samples at the very least. Maybe... maybe we can bring some people in? Get them informed about the Light, figure out how they're surviving here?" Lup's hopeful, against her better judgement. A place like this is built to wipe them out. They have a duty though, to every world they meet. They're the only ones who know what's coming.

Barry adjusts his mask. It's annoying and uncomfortable and absolutely necessary. "For sure we should collect samples," he agrees. "If there are all these huge mushrooms I'd love to find out what they're living on."

Davenport nods. "We prioritize recovering the Light, but certainly we should also meet the people here and study the environment. Very honestly, it looks like these folks may have a difficult time feeding seven extra mouths; we'll want to make sure to help earn our keep," he says.

"Right." Lup dreads the confines of the suit, but it's going to keep them all alive for the time being. When it comes to the unknown, and her crew, better safe than sorry. "We should have a group to take samples, but until we know what's out there vis-a-vis air? We should limit our exposure."

"Exactly. These folks have had who knows how long to adapt. We've had twenty minutes." Merle passes out equipment and specimen bags, looking like a vermillion marshmallow in his bulky suit. 

"Agreed. Lucretia, are you comfortable speaking to the locals with me?" She nods, "Good. The rest of you-- be quick, be thorough. First team to report back Sends, clear?" A round of "Aye"s and "Yessir"s, and the crew finishes preparations. Lup steels her nerves and excitement at the door. Time to greet the day.

Barry finishes gathering up what he’ll need and rechecks his suit. He turns to Lup and Taako and, oh, masks, huh? Covering their entire mouths. Hmmm. She can’t read his lips this way. Alright. They’ll make it work.

“Ready to get some samples?” he asks, signing along with his words. Gods, the sound the masks make is gonna take getting used to. Countdown’s already on for Barry, one year until Lup’s voice is never again obstructed by constant, staticky hissing.

Lup's eyes are a mess of confusion and disgust. These things sound awful, thank  _ gods  _ the rest of the crew has picked up some basic sign--  _ Oh _ . She's about to make that note aloud, but it looks like Barry's already made the connection. She smiles, even if he can't see it. " _ Hell yeah, let's go! _ "

They don’t have to go far to get samples at least. The ship is surrounded by vegetation on three sides, and it's  _ terrifying _ . They've seen worlds of towering foliage before, but nothing that didn't at least look something like home. She feels a bit like one of those little fairies from children's stories, peeking up through regular-sized mushrooms from an all too small vantage. Not to mention the claustrophobia of her hazmat mask. The lens fogs strangely when she breathes, and there's a grotesque  _ whirr  _ that accompanies any sound the crew makes. It's sensory hell, and they've only just begun.

These mushrooms? Are  _ ridiculously  _ huge. As Barry kneels and carefully bags a sample, he looks up at the underside of one. The pattern of the gills is kinda beautiful this way. It’s like a decorated ceiling in a fancy building, he thinks.

He gets back up and moves along, stopping to bag another sample. He packs it away and turns to Lup. “ _ We’ll wanna check the soil, if these things are growing this big I bet it’s bonkers—doing okay over there? _ ” he signs. She isn’t moving with quite the same confidence he usually sees, maybe the suit’s too restrictive?

" _ Yeah, all good _ ." She joins him to bag soil samples, finer movements looking clumsy through the bulky gloves. Even the dirt here is huge, like walking through sand or wood chips. Lup finds an interesting stone, bioluminescent like the mushrooms but much sturdier, and bags it. As awful as this place will be to handle outside, the things they might learn from it are looking promising.

Lucretia Sends their team some time later, advising to stay within sight of the ship. The locals aren't keen on the things that live under cover of the fungus, and until the crew knows better Davenport thinks it best to follow their lead. Eventually, darkness leaves them only the light of the forest, and the team turns back, loaded down with bags and vials and the like. Taako signs something about  _ doing a haul later _ , and Lup laughs in agreement.

For all the anxiety that Lucretia’s message brings, it’s a little balanced by the  _ glow _ . It hadn’t been as noticeable during the day, except in the shadow of the taller mushrooms, but as night falls Barry still feels comfortable among the softly glowing mushrooms. If they weren’t trying to kill the crew with their murder spores, they’d be Barry’s new favorite, and honestly? Respect for the murder spores, even, it’s just incompatibility and an attempt to reproduce, not malice. It’s not the mushrooms’ fault the crew’s lungs aren’t keen on hosting fungus.

They return to the ship. Gods, they’ll have to pay attention to keeping the ship sealed up, decontamination, the whole bit, until they’re sure. The locals seem to only wear masks, though, not full suits, maybe skin contact is fine? They’ll have to find out.

He stows the samples in the lab and the crew convenes to hear what Davenport and Lucretia have found out.

“So the folks here are pretty friendly,” Lucretia says, referring back to her journal. “They say there are other folks, though, who are cultivating the mushrooms. They’re having to send folks out at night to burn back the growth and keep this place from being overrun.”

"Any information on  _ why  _ these other people are growing murder 'shrooms?" Taako chimes in, draped all legs akimbo over the kitchen table. Nearly a decade in, it's become the catch-all common room. Does protocol dictate that this sort of thing happen in the command centre? Yes. But protocol was thrown out the window a  _ long  _ time ago. They should really pick up some couches.

Lucretia checks her notes, as if she doesn't remember most of the interaction perfectly. She shakes her head. "They didn't say. I'll put it on the list of follow-ups but remember guys, it's not our job to alter the civil situation here--" 

"But if we have time for a revolution, go ham." Magnus finishes, earning a grin from Lup and a "Well..." from Davenport. 

The crew all know it by now: They're not going to save everyone. They can't. They've seen it the very first plane, they saw it with Dusk, and Lup knows that fact will continue to prove true. As impossible as it feels to wrestle with, they can't have every life on every world on their conscience. People die every day, all they can do is try to save the world as a whole.

It doesn't make it any easier to stomach. 

"Did they say anything about  _ how  _ the mushrooms are hurting people?” Lup sits back in her seat, chin resting on a fist. “We can assume spore exposure, but I didn't see anyone else in hazmat gear out there."

Lucretia flips a page. “Their understanding of the situation seems pretty basic, but from what they said the mushrooms are safe to handle as long as you don’t breathe the spores. If you do breathe them in, they said basically expect flu-like symptoms, then almost a sort of pneumonia; no one has ever recovered long-term. It seems like the spores are just overwhelming rather than a specific kind of toxic.”

Barry nods. That makes sense, a lot of things can do that. A lot of professions have specific, named hazards similar to what Lucretia’s describes, this just seems more extreme, scaled up like the mushrooms themselves. Some otherwise okay things just don’t belong in lungs—water comes to mind, Barry thinks wryly.

“We’ll need to stick with the masks then, no exceptions,” he says. “Good to know it’s just inhalation. That sucks but it makes things at least a little easier.”

The rest of the crew nods, too. “No risks, guys, I don’t wanna see a single one of you in my medbay over this,” Merle warns.

Lup nods, taking her own notes for further research. "I hate to be  _ that elf _ , but are we sure that they're safe for  _ us  _ to handle? We don't know that our physiology is similar enough to theirs. I'd like to run a coupla tests before we start running around in the buff." 

Taako mutters an agreement, much to Magnus's disdain. "I'll draw up some methods tonight,” she continues, “Try to have something preliminary by lunch. We've got all year guys, and I'm not doing it without one of you-- not this early." Maybe one of their tests will conclude that they're different enough to go out sans-masks. It's definitely too good to be true, but it'd be nice.

“That’s a good point,” Barry agrees. It’s not an assumption worth the risk. There’s too much at stake. “I can help with that, if you want,” he says.

"Sure, I'd appreciate the help. Thanks." Together they could probably get some things started before breakfast. Lup's already got a few ideas running through her head. Chemical leeching, radiation... nothing's really off the table yet. And with Barry's biological prowess, they could do even more.

“Alright, that’s the plan then. Full suits until we have more info, potentially just masks if we find it’s safe to do so. No aggravating the folks here, help out where you can, no fomenting revolution  _ Magnus _ ,” Davenport says briskly.

“Wait, what if the other folks are cruel? The ones growing the mushrooms?” Magnus protests.

Davenport sighs. “Then, and  _ only  _ then, you may foment a  _ small  _ revolution, but clear it with me first,” he acquiesces.

"No starting revolutions without me, yeah?" Lup tosses a high-five in Magnus's direction, a barely apologetic shrug in consolation to Davenport. It's not egging him on if it's true, is it?

"Anything else, or am I good to start the 'za?" Taako chimes in. "I feel a little weird putting mushrooms on now..."

Barry chuckles at that as Davenport adjourns their meeting and the crew scatters about their business before dinner. He heads over to Lup.

"I'll brainstorm a bit about the mushrooms before dinner, wanna let me know when it's almost done and I'll set the table?" he asks.

It sometimes makes Barry pause and think how weird their lives are at times like this. Normally he'd have one or the other of those conversations with a person, but now even more than at the beginning, the lines between professional collaboration and domesticity are blurred. The crew works together like a team and then eats together like a family. They really are each other's everything.

He turns to Taako. "You putting extra anchovies on that pizza, bud? Just mound 'em up, like  _ so many _ , I'm talking amounts that should be illegal." Yup, just like family. They always know how to get a playful rise out of each other.

"Eight years. Eight years, Barold, and you haven't learned. Anchovies belong in a Caesar Dressing and  _ nothing else _ . You know this, I know this, hells  _ Merle  _ knows this!"

"Whadda I know?" Comes a holler from the hall.

" _ Fuckin' exactly! _ " Taako translates Merle's words, and Lup cackles. "This is why we don't let you do the cooking."

"Awwh, come on Ko-- I say load it up. Fuck the rules." Lup snorts, nudging Barry as she gets in on the goof. 

“ _ Thank _ you, Lup, see, Taako, she knows,” Barry says with a wink as he backs out of the kitchen. Gods, Taako’s fun to poke at like this. Barry doesn’t even really care one way or another about anchovies, either. There’s a risk Taako’s gonna actually make the thing, one of these days, and that’ll definitely be a staring contest while Barry eats the thing out of sheer orneriness. Lup would laugh, probably. The thought makes Barry smile.

"I'll call ya when we're ready, and we can talk experiments after dinner?" Lup grins and heads to Taako's side. A towel over one shoulder, an apron settled on Taako, and the twins are officially in their element.

Barry putters around a bit, jotting down a list of tests they should start with. There isn’t really any need to rush, they’ve got a year. They can start with the basics and go forward. Hopefully they find the Light quick, too.

When Lup calls him, he’s got a handful of ideas and a little doodle of a stick figure standing under a giant mushroom and giving a thumbs up. No point in not having a little fun!

Places are set, pizza is had (sans anchovies,which has Lup rather chuffed), and Merle, Barry, and the twins put on a pot of tea and talk science. Barry's doodles get a smile out of Lup; glad to see he's got hope for this cycle. 

"So getting some compositional chemical analysis done on the 'shrooms first will hopefully give us a better idea of what to look at? I mean, getting a biopsy from locals and testing that way would probably give us the most accurate information on both our similarity  _ and  _ long-term effects the fastest. But that's very ‘take me to your leader’ medical testing type shit, so... Biology boy, got any better ideas?" Lup doodles a UFO and seven little green men as she talks. Maybe those shitty sci-fi stories made more sense than she gave them credit for. Still creepy tho. Deffo not her first choice.

“That’ll help, you’re right about biopsies though. They’re for sure not gonna have that type of trust for us right out of the gate. We need to see how fast these things grow, too, it could even just be dangerous because there’s too dang many of the spores.” 

Barry taps his pen on the table. What he wouldn’t give for those samples. No way to get them ethically, though, so no dice. They can’t just run around all mad scientist like, after all, so unless some hapless local decides to be really chill all of a sudden that’s a no.

“We can also try and get more information from them on symptoms, maybe you could ask them, Merle?” Barry suggests.

"Why me?"

"You're literally the ‘medical professional’, old man." Taako rolls his eyes, scare quotes coming in strong. "If it's anyone's job to play doctor, that's you."

"Plus, I didn't see any elves or humans on their side, Merle." Lup jots down something in her notes:  _ effects of spores by size? _ "For all we know, people that look like us could be Super Not Friendly here. They might trust you better, honestly."

"Ehh, alright. Since ya ask so  _ nicely _ ." There's a friendly kind of sarcasm there that has Taako making a face and Lup smiling.

Barry chuckles. Merle knows what he’s doing, even if the others do rib him about it. He writes himself a note. “We can also check with Lucretia to see what she and Davenport found out, who knows, these folks may have some answers for us already, or at minimum something to point us in the right direction.”

He hopes so. He hopes they can all make it through this cycle unscathed, and find the Light, and ideally figure out how to get home, or somewhere that could be home, and build good lives there. They deserve it, after all.

With tentative plans of action agreed upon, the crew eventually adjourns for the night. The strange bioluminescence of this world seeps through the twins' window as Lup does her best to sleep, reminding her of a prior plane and terrible truths about their mission she'd rather forget. At least it's pretty.

\--

A few days later, like clockwork, the Light falls. Unlike clockwork, however, the Light falls  _ way the fuck away _ . Magnus rushes in during an evening watch to report the comet-trail careening south past the horizon. It's much too far to travel on foot, even with the masks they'd been gifted by the people of Fungston. Preliminary research suggests that the spores affect the IPRE similarly to the denizens of this strange world, but that in no way means it's a good idea to walk blind through Mushroom Hell. Especially if what the locals say about the Cultivators is true. 

Magnus suggests a proper expedition, and the crew (for the most part) is on board. Merle's got it in his head to start a... church? Wild, but no one can fault him for spreading the Good Word; that is his other job, technically. Taako agrees to stay with the ship while the rest go out scouting, and the plan is settled.

The problem, Barry begins to realize with concepts like "the Light fell south of here" is just that so damn much of the planet is, broadly speaking,  _ south _ . They do their best, tracking it through the forest of mushrooms, but it takes a  _ while _ , with quite a few false starts and side trips.

As they go along, taking the ship up and back down again, clearing out spots and recalculating over and over like a Fantasy Garmin unit, Barry feels his excitement grow. On top of that, even with the hassle of the masks, the soft glow of the mushrooms has him sleeping better than usual, tiring out by evening and waking up refreshed.

Eventually, they'll run out of planet. Eventually, there'll be only one spot left, and there it'll be. It really always is in the last spot you look.

So as he compares angles and measurements with Lup and Davenport for the thirty-seventh time, Barry's in good spirits.  _ Coming for you, Light _ .

"Gods, there's gotta be an easier way to track this thing..." Lup stares daggers at their crude map of the planet, shading in the area from the day's trek. They were covering ground, but not nearly fast enough for anyone's liking. Barry looks optimistic though, which is helping to keep her frustration in check. If only they could find the Light with positivity alone. 

"Hey Bear? You know that spell, uhh... I never learned it, but it's for tracing spell effects? Do you have that? ‘Cause like, okay, I know this ain't that, but... what if we... y'know... tweak it? Like I dunno, I know that's not like... easy or whatever, but is anything we've done?" It's pulling at straws, but they've basically been doing that since day one.

Barry considers this. That could work, maybe, she's right that it'd need tweaking, but...

"I mean, we could try? What's gonna happen, we'll fuck up and have noth--no, have learned a new way it doesn't work? It's worth a shot or five," he agrees.

They'd just have to figure out how to zero in on the Light rather than anything a caster's done...they could go after what the Light does...they kinda have to figure out what that is a little more finely, but that could, just maybe...

He flips to a clean page in his notebook and scribbles down a few words-- _ glow, beautiful, falls, want, chase _ . "I think that may be something," he says with a broad smile.

"Probably be a bit easier if we had the thing..." Taako mutters from across the table, hard at work on some papier-mâché construct that he swears will "literally save everything". So far it's just taken up an entire spiral-bound and covered one of the lab desks in flour and glue. 

Lup sighs. He's right. But that doesn't mean they can't get some theorising done in the mean-time. "If we get some time with it, get to actually  _ analyse  _ it with the  _ intent  _ of like figuring out a magical signature? You think we could figure out something like that?" She chews the end of her pencil. She's not familiar enough with that level of divination to do it alone, but if Barry believes it's possible, so does she.

Barry nods thoughtfully and looks up from tracing his pen back over the  _ s  _ in  _ chase _ . "I think we could," he says. "I mean...we don't know for sure  _ how  _ yet, but fuck it, I didn't used to know how to  _ tie my own shoes _ , and now look. Even if it's not this year, if we keep at it...there's gotta be something traceable, especially the way folks keep trying to take it from each other."

"Barold, I'm so proud," Taako cuts in. "Tying your own shoes? Big boy."

Barry rolls his eyes. "For a  _ while _ , yeah," he retorts with a chuckle.

Lup laughs, "Yeah, gotta be. Maybe we can trace it by... sheer fuckin' craveability."

" _ Craveability _ ? That's the best you got, Lu?" Taako waves his glue-coated paintbrush accusatorially. "I can't believe we share genetic material."

Not long after, notes are tucked away and glue is left to dry, and the crew awaits a new dawn, 

and the expedition that will come along with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: No new cycle playlists for this one, but I did pull together a couple of playlists for [Barry](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2DsOxLLD7HXV6FzGDUeSWF?si=szzNEg9rTMqhXV2VTb1XzQ) and [Lup](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/54prjwJVTCgAn84MwDYUlJ). Enjoy!  
> SA: Yeah, how did we not end up with playlists for this cycle? I'm starting one now, so it's not *much* yet. Feel free to suggest stuff that vibes with this year in the comments?  
> [BEC: 08 - Overrun](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4HOPisWjS1RmhUd3xUuYAe?si=auPkGiK6QpGDOYLbD80FtA)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say, "what you don't know can break your heart".
> 
> Isn't that it?
> 
> Maybe it was "loose lips sink ships".
> 
> Maybe it was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Okay, so editing this in July 2020 has been a real trip, just saying...anyhow WEAR YOUR MASKS.  
> SA: Yeah like, we didn't write Fungston itself, but like. All of this was written well before the everything now. So just a reminder to take care of yourself when reading this cycle, particularly this chapter. Stay safe y'all!

The first thing Barry notices is the cough.

Sometimes people cough, obviously, that’s normal. But hearing Magnus’s cough, deep in his chest rather than just a clearing of the throat, on a plane where they’ve been warned of a lethal inhalation hazard has Barry’s anxiety up in a second.

"Magnus, bud, are you okay?” he asks. “Your mask didn’t slip, did it?” If it did...shit, Merle’s back in the village. That’s not good.

He'd hoped he would have more time, but when the locals say this thing works fast... Magnus gives Barry a look that all but confirms the worst. "Yeah can I uhh, can I talk to ya for a second?" He pulls Barry aside, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking guilty as all get out. 

"I uhh, didn't want to worry you guys. We're already stressing about the Light and... some of the guys, the scorchers? They've been doin' what they can, y'know? I've got some time." He peeks around the corner, to where the twins are hard at work packing food for the next leg of their journey on foot. Even from the hall, he can hear their casual bickering, and smiles. "Can you... I know it's shitty, but can we not tell them yet? Just one more hike around without everyone worrying. Then I swear, you can do all the science stuff you want on me." He laughs, drawing out another round of coughs.

Barry’s heart drops. The folks from the village said fatal  _ without exception _ , and honestly? Fuck this plane. Fuck it. It can’t have Magnus.

As though one Barry’s curses will do a damn thing.

“First up, it’s my job to worry about all of us as far as I’m concerned, secondly, they’re gonna notice, Mags. That’s pretty much a given; I won’t tell them, but—“ Barry sighs. “You do whatever the scorchers say, okay? They know more about this than we do, and maybe—maybe you’ll pull through, our immune systems are bound to be at least a little different, just—I don’t know, Mags. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

"Dude, I think this falls under protection, and that's on me." Knowing that Barry will let him tell the crew on his own time is reassuring though, and as much as he blames himself for his slip up, it's good to know that Barry's more interested in looking out for him than criticizing his mistakes. "I know, I will. And I'll tell 'em, just not today." He grins, turning to head into the kitchen. "Lup said she'd Fly me to the top of one of those bad boys, and I'm  _ deffo  _ doing that before I get grounded."

Barry nods. Flying is fun, he doesn’t blame Magnus a bit for that, and it’s not like that’ll hurt him any.

Magnus flicks the lights a few times as he enters, and the twins holler a harmony of "Good morning"s. Some of the scorch team have come by to help pack and distribute rations, and a few wave too. 

"You boys ready to go?" Lup is dreading the daily Return of the Masks, but as long as Magnus hasn't ratted about their lookout plan, she's got something to look forward to this time.

Barry adds his “ready” to the scattered confirmations. “We’re still veering slightly east, right? Where we saw the faster growth?”

"That's the plan." Lup looks over the map tacked to the wall, with an area plotted out in highlighter. The majority of the map is already hash-marked over in red, where they've looked and found nothing. They're running out of known land, and with every failed attempt, time. 

Lamenting their failures isn't going to save this world though. So they trek on, a day out and a day back into the eerie glow of the forest once again. And when Lup and Magnus go floating up to the mushroom caps for a better view, something about him isn't right. He's off his game, slower to catch up to her and nearly slipping off a particularly slick cap. She tries not to think anything of it, but when they reconvene in their Huts and tents for the night, she can't help but notice he looks way too tired for Magnus. 

She catches Barry's attention, hiding her signs from Mags's view. " _ Is he okay? Seems a little ill _ ."

Oh, shit. Lup’s onto them, and Barry said he wouldn’t tell but he can _ not _ keep a secret from her. Well, except for his feelings, maybe, but that—he’s probably failing at that one.

” _ He does seem tired, did he say anything about it? _ ” Barry signs back.

He’s not made for subterfuge, dammit. She can break him without trying. Barry’s already starting to sweat. He promised Magnus he wouldn’t tell. Magnus deserves to tell folks on his own terms, but this is about to  _ suuuuuck _ .

Damn. At least she's not seeing things. 

" _ Nope, not to me. _ " Lup pauses a moment, " _ I'm sure he's fine, but... keep an eye on him maybe? Probably just tired, but. _ " She shrugs. It's hard to blame anyone for being a little burnt out, they've been at this for weeks now. She'd be lying if she said she felt at the top of her game. 

" _ We better have calves of steel by the end of this. _ " She laughs, and the topic is dropped for the moment.

Barry laughs, a little too hard maybe, but who’s gonna be the judge of that? “ _ Yeah, we’re all gonna be so strong, it’ll be a shame to reset. _ ”

She isn’t pushing, oh thank fuck, he was not gonna withstand an interrogation, not from her anyhow. As soon as they say good night, he goes to find Magnus.

“Mags, are you planning on telling the rest soon? I think some of ‘em are worried,” he says.

Magnus coughs, and nods his head. He pulls a blanket tight around himself, though it doesn’t feel chilly out to Barry. “I’ll tell ‘em soon,” he says, “just gonna hit the hay, we got a long way to go tomorrow.”

\--

When the search party wakes in the morning, the count-off is one short. Lup rolls her eyes with a smile, " _ Mags is probably still sleeping, poor kid _ ." She runs back to the tent he'd stayed in to wake him up.

She returns not five minutes later, expression unreadable. "Guys? I... Magnus..." He'd seemed fine last night. A little tired, but  _ fine _ . She looks to Barry and Lucretia for answers she knows they can't give.

_ Oh no. _

Barry goes to Lup, not sure what to say to her. Magnus must be gone, he can see it on her face. 

“Is he—is he coming?” Lucretia asks. “Lup, what’s wrong?”

Lup just shakes her head. She should be crying, should be holding Luce and figuring out next steps, but she's just. Shocked. He was  _ okay _ . "Luce... he's gone, I don't... I don't know." 

Lucretia looks confused between the two of them, running off to see if she can get some damn answers herself. 

Barry puts a hand on her shoulder, ready to shift it into a hug. “I—“ he tries, but he can’t continue. A tear streaks down his face and he wipes at it fiercely.

"Barry, you don't think... He wasn't  _ hurt _ , no one did this to him he just..." She cycles through possibilities in her head, each one making less sense than the last.

Barry takes a deep breath. Can’t hurt to tell her now, he supposes. They all need to know what to look out for, and that humans, at least, are for sure vulnerable.

“He was coughing. I cornered him about it and—I guess something happened with his mask, and he swore me to secrecy and said he’d tell everyone soon on his own steam, but—that was fast, Lup, and now...“ he trails off. Shit,  _ he  _ might be the one who needs a hug.

Lup just stares back in shock. No. Betrayal. "You _ knew? _ You-- You knew he was dying, and you didn't say...  _ anything! _ I-- I asked you? And you--" She backs away, tears rolling as it all finally hits her. Magnus is gone. And he  _ knew _ . 

"I-- Gods, I'm... gonna get Luce." Lup sniffs, pushing past him to find Lucretia looking just as upset as they all were, seated by Magnus’s side.

“I’m sorry—he told me not to—Lup, please!” But she’s already gone.

Gods. He fucked up. He should’ve told her.

Also he didn’t, maybe? He kept Mags’s confidence.

He couldn’t do anything  _ but  _ fuck up, somehow. That should be better, but it’s worse.

She’ll hate him forever, probably not, but also probably. She should understand, maybe? He’s kept secrets for her before. But this isn’t about understanding, it’s about hurt.

Gods, does it  _ hurt _ .

Barry dashes away some more stubborn tears. They’ll have to figure out—burial, and find the Light still. He’d want them to find the Light.

He still wants that hug. No hugs for Dr. Barry Hallwinter, fool and idiot. He’ll have to mourn alone.

When they return to the group, Lup eyes never meet Barry's.

The scorch team tells them that they deal with their dead in the same manner as the fungus; they burn. Lup understands this. So when the time comes to move on, to keep searching, the present members of the crew say a few words, as is their tradition. And when they burn, as is the tradition of the world, Lup's flames mingle with the scorchers' in a blaze that beats back the forest just a bit in its wake. 

It doesn't feel any better. 

Funerals are hard. They're even hard when they're just temporary.

Barry pulls his robe tight around him, heedless of the heat of the blaze that consumes Magnus's body. He's helpless. He can't go back in time, or bring Magnus back.

Well... _ can't _ is a strong word, but.

Most of the time  _ can't _ just means "I don't have the support to do that" anyway. But. It wouldn't be Magnus, as they knew him, anyhow, and that's who they miss.

Luckily, or ironically, they don't have long left to search for the Light. Their calculations send them through ever-towering forests of mushrooms, until the luminescence is broken in what is perhaps the most awesome show of the Light's power yet. Hundreds of cultivators, humanoid mushroom men, knelt before the Light of Creation. Every last one of them dead.

The word that comes to Barry's mind is  _ troubling _ . All of the Cultivators prostrated here, so emaciated that it's awful to look at; it's like they found the Light and forgot everything else--self-preservation, basic needs, each other. It's haunting.

At the very least, there's no one to persuade, and no one to menace the crew with spears or crossbows. They pick up the Light and head back to the ship.

Back on the ship, Lup breaks the news to Taako. He’s stoic on the surface, but she knows that come the quiet of night, he’ll be just as wrecked as the rest of them. He’s always been the better actor.

They pour one out for Magnus after dinner, a belated way for them to mourn as a group. They’ll do it all again when they get back to Merle, and they know it still won’t be enough. It’s almost worse, Lup thinks, that death doesn’t mean what it used to for them. When they lose someone now, it’s not the end. There’s no saying that they won’t have to mourn them again. There’s no way it’s good for their minds.

After the places have been cleared, showers and the like have been had, and Taako has been consoled as much as he’ll allow, Lup finds herself in the lab. They have the Light. Magnus’s death won’t have been for naught, they won’t allow it. So if she can’t get to sleep, she’ll get to work.

After dinner, Barry rattles around the ship, trying to feel better. That never does work, but maybe it's like his mom used to say, and he'll feel better once he's done something productive. He heads for the lab. Maybe he can get a good start toward finding a way to track the Light.

He opens the lab door. Lup is inside.

Alright. It might be time to have a conversation, then. Maybe she'll let him explain before she chews him out? Or after, after's okay as long as he gets to explain at some point.

He flickers the lights, so as not to sneak up on her. "Hi," he says, "you have a minute?"

The lights flicker in a familiar way that Lup immediately identifies as Barry. Taako's is much quicker, Lucretia’s more succinct. Magnus was always doing funky little rhythms with his. Barry's are slow, pointed. Not what she wants to see right now. 

But they're adults, and she'll have to face him at some point. So she looks up. "I guess. Whaddya need?"

She's giving him a chance. Barry chooses his words carefully.

"I'm really sorry. Mags wanted to tell you himself, and he asked me to keep quiet. I only knew that morning, and I asked him to tell you all again that night but he...didn't make it, to be able to. I didn't mean for it to hurt, but, gods this fucking sucks--"

He's gonna cry again if he keeps this up. He tries to hold back the tears. "Anyway, sorry," he finishes, if one could call it finishing.

She wants to look away, not to think about losing Magnus again. But she looks, and she sees that this isn't any easier on Barry. She'd known, of course she had, but it's so much easier to tuck pain away when it's disguised as anger, and so much easier to convince yourself of anger when it has a target. 

But it's not fair. 

"I know." Lup sets down her pencil with a sigh, electing to forget her work for the moment. "I know. It's not your fault. It was... sudden. And  _ bullshit _ . But not your fault."

That's the best Barry could've hoped for, honestly it is. His apology isn't going to make anything better, not really. It won't bring Mags back, it won't take away the pain they all feel, and it won't extricate them from this whole shitty situation.

But it's at least starting to look like they can be on each other's team in the middle of it, and that's really all Barry wants now. Much as he wants out of this mad cycle of death and disaster, he far more wants someone to stay by his side and hold his hand while he walks through it.

"I don't blame you for being pissed, just...no one expected this. I don't think he'd have gotten to tell any of us if I hadn't asked him point-blank, he said he didn't want us to worry." He smiles wryly. "As if we ever _ don't  _ worry."

Lup laughs, wiping at tears that have snuck up on her. "Yeah. If I uhh, didn't know better, I'd think the Bond engine runs on sheer anxiety." 

It still sucks, and it's going to keep sucking. Lup knows this. But if they can't be in each other's corner, it's going to suck a whole lot more. As much as it hurts to acknowledge the pain for what it is, it's better to. They can all give Magnus a group hug and a stern talking to on  _ transparency  _ when the reset comes. What they can't do is spend the rest of the year at each other's throats because of a promise asked of a friend. They need each other, to keep doing what they do.

"Hey, okay, okay," Barry says gently, crossing the room to her. He opens his arms for a hug, not quite sure whether she's ready for that, but knowing it'll help both of them. "Imagine if we could do that, that'd be one powerful engine. Meantime though, I guess we'll have to work with what we've got and figure this Light out."

He pauses. "We can totally let everything stop for a minute and feel this shit ‘til it's down to a dull roar first though. Probably should, huh?"

Lup takes the hug full force, burying her face in the worn cotton of his t-shirt. He's soft in every way, this one, and gods does she appreciate that some nights. "Yeah, yeah we deffo can."

He gently runs a hand up and down her back, soothing and  _ there _ , above all, just  _ there _ . It's an exchange, his softness and solidness cushioning her sharp grief and holding her steady, her beauty and heat reminding him that not all is lost, and the sun will rise tomorrow, right on schedule.

What she wouldn't give for a moment outside, a long quiet stare at the stars and a good cry without dumb masks or bullshit death spores. As if taking their friend wasn't enough, this plane had to go and take her tried and true Emotional Processing Habit. Thank the gods the year was almost over anyways. 

"I’m sorry," she says, after a long moment. "I was a prick, you didn't need that." She pulls back just a bit to read his face. "If you need anything, you know I'm here, yeah?"

"It's alright, it's already forgiven, you weren't even wrong, really. I'm here, too, anything you need." He pauses. "This is what I need, now."

She just nods, already hugging him again. It's what she needs too. 

"Do you know what happened? Should we... I don't know, be worried about the masks?" As if they need one more thing to worry about on this plane, faulty masks would be the worst. If it comes down to it though, at least they have the Light already. And if Lup has to be stuck inside for the remaining weeks, she'd rather have it be the plane where freedom to walk about comes at the cost of understanding.

“I asked him if the mask slipped, and he didn’t say for sure but he kinda acted like it was maybe just a mistake. I think the masks are okay, no one else is sick. Maybe he didn’t get it on right, or took it off too soon before the door closed. We’ll just have to be careful,” he says.

The hug is warm, and her hair tickles Barry’s hands softly. He wants to do something, work would be a good option, but the idea of just finding a soft surface and a blanket and becoming a Lup-and-Barry lump until one or both of them can’t keep their eyes open sounds even better.

A _ nd what soft surface would that be? _ he asks himself.  _ Be grateful for the hug _ .

A good hug really does make the rest of the world seem cold. What Lup wouldn't give for one of Magnus's celebratory Light Finding Movie Nights, even if they have all seen All Dogs Go To Heaven about a million times already. Even if Lup maybe totally cries every time. But Magnus isn't here, and the crew's all gone to bed, at least allegedly. And she'd come down here to get some work done, probably so did Barry. So she lets him go, running a hand through her hair. 

"I uhh... I was gonna try to get some readings done tonight, on the Light? Did you uhh.. you want in on that?"

Barry smiles a little. “I was coming in here to try and do the same, I’d love to,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “Who knows, maybe we can make some headway.”

Maybe later, maybe tomorrow night, maybe sometime the universe will just let them  _ be  _ together. Just sit together comfortably, no agenda, just together, maybe in a kitchen or a living room in a house with irises by the door and a mailbox that looks like a birdhouse which is baffling to the birds and also the whole place smells like cinnamon.  _ Gods _ , is it too much to ask?

But tonight is for research, and that’s together, and it’s a way of  _ being _ .

“Whatcha want to try first?”

"So I had this buckwild theory, that if we throw some different divination styles at it, we might be able to get a better idea of how to tinker that one spell? Like, I know we've like.  _ Done  _ that. But intent is one hundo percent a factor in a lot of those, so..."

Lup rattles off a list of different specs they could pull from the Light, various spells to rerun, which ones they'd need Lucretia's help on. Her notebook, the one dedicated to research on the Light, is already full of pages of theories and observations that she flips back through now. It feels productive. Like one of these days they might do more than just running.

Barry nods as Lup runs through her ideas. He scratches down a couple of notes in his own notebook. She's thorough. With them having this access to the Light, they can get at the different specs she's naming, they can  _ test  _ the spell!

He taps his pen on the paper, thinking. "So we need to lock onto the Light specifically to find it. I think a big part of our problem so far is just that we're...too vague? Like we know what it's called, and we can see it right there, but if we know it inside out...we need to know what makes it different from Taako's decoy," he says. "One of these things has gotta be it, or a combination of them maybe. Let's, hmmm..." he taps the pen again. "Let's try it without tweaking the spell at all first, while we know it's here, and just charge down the list and see if we can't get something to stick."

"Yeah, okay. That could-- Yeah that could work." She's got half a mind to just  _ hack into it _ , take it apart and see what's inside. But they need it. For all they know, the Light-- the Mission-- is the only thing bringing them back. And if they stop coming back, who's to say the Hunger won't take everything? So no hack saws, no fission, not until they know they could put the thing back together. 

Lup peeks over at Barry's notes, tapping her pencil on one of the lines. "I think this one sounds promising. Let's see if we can pull some qualifiables, see how its magical radiation compares to the schools of magic?--Well,  _ our  _ schools of magic. We could use that along with these parameters? Is that anything?"

_ Our _ schools of magic. Gods, Lup's right, this thing might be from an _ entirely new school of magic _ \--even some of  _ all  _ of them? What if they haven't been able to nail it down just because it's outside of their framework? Time for a new framework, maybe.

"Yeah, we could just plug those in like--yeah, that could work, let's try it," Barry says excitedly.

While it doesn't make losing Mags hurt any less, a late night in the lab does help to put some nervous energy to good use. When the two turn in for the night it's with tired eyes and graphite stains on their palms. It doesn't hurt less, but it does feel a little better. 

The next morning the crew Sends back to Merle, giving him word that they'll be back to Fungston by sundown. What they find when they get there? An evening mass, in the beautiful new First Church of Fungston, led by one very proud dwarf. Lup's never been terribly devout, and the Aunt who took them to services was more into Istus anyhow, but there's something to be said about the sense of community a bit of shared faith can inspire. She, along with the rest of the crew, sneak into a back pew and listen to the tail end of the sermon, before they reconvene for the evening.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how sometimes little things that look like nothing are nothing and sometimes they super are something after all, but probably they're nothing, right?
> 
> Anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: The anxiety fest continues in this chapter, but the countdown's on! Please take good care of yourselves in the thick of this pandemic and take precautions.
> 
> SA: This one's less anxious than the last one, I swear!! Stay safe folks, we got this. <3

Two weeks and a whole lot of coffee later, Lup calls over the intercom for breakfast while Taako finishes up the last of the pancakes and transmuted sausages. They're looking at another day of tests with the Light, and after the round of revisions they'd pulled through last night on the Triangulation spell, odds are looking pretty good for some more exciting work.

Meanwhile,  Barry starts awake in his bed, pen in hand, and finishes his half-written sentence. He must've fallen asleep for--he checks the clock--three hours? And a bit? He's not sure exactly, but he's still on his train of thought.

But the clock also informs him that it'll be time for breakfast soon. He sets aside his notebook and goes to rummage for a fresh pair of boxers and jeans and a shirt from the chest of drawers. Gods, he should shave. Fuck it, it's sexy, maybe. Maybe? He actually feels deeply unsexy at the moment, but he can sleep later. Tonight.

He gets dressed. Oof, all the muscles are hurting today, courtesy of the unyielding march of time, probably. He drags his sorry ass down to breakfast. "Morning," he mumbles, signing the same to Lup. "Coffee?"

"Comin' right up--" Lup takes one look at Barold and just slides him her own coffee. The good Sylvan shit that the twins constantly have to defend their love of. So much more caffeine, perfect for elf bodies that don't handle sleep and energy the mortal way. Poor kid looks like he needs it this morning though. She starts in on making another pot. "You good? Looks like you didn't sleep a wink."

Taako signs something about the gravelly tone and the stubble and the "duality of man", and Lup swats him.  _ Just stating the obvious, _ he shrugs, going back to flipping pancakes.

Barry pulls the coffee toward himself and hunches over it. "Huh? Yeah, I'm good, just need some coffee, get all this in gear," Barry says, gesturing vaguely to his entire body. He turns to the side and clears his throat, which...doesn't really help, to be honest, it still feels like sandpaper. He sips his coffee--oh Jesus Fantasy Christ, this might actually do something for him,  _ gods! _

"Oh pancakes? Excellent, those look good," he says.

It doesn't take perfect ears to hear that that voice  ~~ as hot as it may be,  _ Taako _ ~~ can not feel great. He doesn't sound nearly as hacky as Magnus had, but it has Lup worrying all the same. He does look tired though, and it's not like they'll be leaving the ship much if at all today, so Lup makes a point to keep an eye on him. She can bug him at dinner if he doesn't seem any better. 

Taako brings over a stack of pancakes, and the remaining crew file in one after another, with soft yawns and muttered good mornings. Aside from Lucretia asking for (and summarily  _ downing _ ) a mug of  **Lup & Taako's: Do Not Drink** brew, breakfast is business as usual. Merle has a sermon to prepare, Lucretia and Taako have plans to harvest and sterilise some mushrooms for the decoy Light, and Davenport... No one really knows what Davenport gets up to. But he's sure gonna be up to it.

Barry feels only marginally better with breakfast in him. It’s fine, he didn’t have any issues with his mask or anything, he just has a little bit of a scratchy throat and he’s tired and it’s probably from the temperature swings on the ship ‘cause danged if he’s not hot one minute and shivering from the chill the next. He’ll just drink some tea, later, it’s fine.

He helps gather up the breakfast dishes and brings them to the sink. Only six plates, and that makes him sad. He sets them down on the counter and pauses to cough into his sleeve. “Want help washing these?” he asks Lup. “We can hit the lab, after, and try the one idea...shit, I don’t remember, I know I wrote it down though, and drew a star next to it, it’ll come back to me.”

"If you don't mind dryin' those off, thanks." She nods to a stack of pans near the sink, taking the plates from him. Barry's Ma sure did raise a good kid, she thinks, elbows deep in suds. Good at helping others, looking out for them. She's close enough to hear his cough, and raises an eyebrow his way. Could be a bit better at looking out for himself, though. 

Lup flicks off the water, checking around to make sure the rest of the crew has gone off to their various tasks. "Hey, you sure you're good? No... no mask slips?" She dries her hands off, eyeing him with suspicion. He doesn't look like Mags had-- If she didn't know better it looked more like a plain cold? 

“I’m fine, just—just dry, a little bit. No mask slips, promise,” Barry says, trying for healthy and normal. See? He sounds normal...ish?

Lup presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and she's no doctor but, "Uhh... humans are deffo supposed to run a bit cooler than elves, right?"

_ Oh. _ She’s...she’s  _ checking his temperature? _ This is not  _ intimate _ in the traditional sense of the word, but also it  _ is, _ in a way. He’s blushing a little, who knows whether she can  _ tell. _ “Yeah, uh, a little cooler. Ninety-eight point six,” he manages. He coughs, bringing up his sleeve to cover it. “I’ll just drink a glass of water, no need to fuss or anything.”

"Hey, shush. You're warm  _ to me _ , Barry." She tosses her towel on the counter; the rest of the plates can air dry. 

"I'm pretty sure we run like... one-oh-one something?" In one practiced motion the kettle is full and heating, and she's rummaging through a cupboard for honey. Nature's godsdamned miracle. 

"That's deffo a fever for y'all, if my math's any good. Is it just a throat thing? What's up?" She gets to work on a well-loved concoction of tea, and pours herself a coffee while the water boils.

"Throat, yeah. Just a little rough, running a little warm and creaky, I'll shake it off in no time. It's--" he cuts himself off with a cough "--it's fine, it won't bother me if I'm distracted with work."

Even so, he sits down. If she's making tea, that's not something he can just turn down. It would be  _ rude, _ is the thing. He'd better have a cup of tea, for social reasons.

Lup nods, frowning in thought. Probably nothing too serious, but better safe than sorry. Especially when they don't know what sort of bullshit illness is possible on these alien worlds. 

"You want me to let you in the lab. While you're sick." The kettle blows steam, and she pours him a nice big mug before tucking her legs up in the chair beside him. "Absolutely not. Barry? Look at me. If anyone else were sick? You can't tell me you'd do any different. We've got the Light-- the world can wait a day." She sips at her coffee, mentally convincing herself that  _ it's just a bug, it's probably not some weird alien illness, deffo no martian plague, oh gods it's a martian plague... _

Wait, no, what? She wasn't gonna  _ let _ him? "That's different," he protests. "We need all of you at 100%, just look at the hole Mags left--" he pauses and swallows painfully, then takes a sip of his tea. "We've got the Light, now studying it is top priority, maybe we can find a way to make this all stop happening, the sooner the better!" His voice rasps, and he takes another sip of the tea.

"Barry. Bear. B-dog." Lup waves a hand in the universal sign for  _ nah _ . "You're a part of this team too. You wanna throw rules around for us? Sure, whatever, but you're not exempt from them." 

She lets her jokey demeanour fall for a moment. "If you're contagious? That's no fault on you, but we don't need everybody getting a throat bug. And like... gods, after Magnus? Barry, you're the biology guy here, you know this place--  _ every _ place we've been sent, they're all different from what we know. It might feel like something we're used to powering through, but that doesn't mean it  _ is _ ." She bites her tongue; nice one, go and freak him out with your bullshit anxieties. "I just... a day of chill and making sure you're good? That's one hundo percent worth a little bit of lab work. Humour me here, Bear."

She's got him. What if he is contagious, what then? They can't all get sick, that would be terrible. And she's also right that it might not be anything they're familiar with, bad as that thought is.

But he'll be  _ bored _ , though. And feel guilty that others are working while he's idle. It'll be the absolute worst.

"Okay, but what if I just sat and took notes for you and wore a mask? I won't even talk, my voice will be resting," Barry wheedles.

She sighs. To be fair, she also hates being benched. But after all the flack she's gotten from him over the years, she'd think he'd go a little more willingly. "Okay, you want to help out? You can be in the lab on exactly one condition. We look at this mystery space cold, not the Light. ...And you like, sit and chill. So I guess two conditions." Lup grins over a sip of coffee, unable to help a little chuckle. Gods, he's gonna be the worst patient, huh? She's never gonna let him live it down.

Barry is too sick, too trusting of Lup, and too eager to get back in the lab to even properly consider what Lup means, exactly, by looking at his illness.

"Yes,  _ ma'am, _ " he answers, failing to put enough snark into it to sound playful. Instead, it just lands in earnestness and acquiescence. Well, that's a problem for Future Barry to groan in embarrassment about every time he remembers it.

He takes a big sip of tea, just to sell how good he’s gonna do at taking care of himself. And also because it's really helping, and it's tasty.

She laughs outright, getting up to put her mug away. No consumables in the lab, after all, though she's tempted to make an exception for Barry. He already sounds just a bit less scratchy with some tea in him, though that might just be the  _ ma'am _ that's got a nice ring to it. 

\--

"Right-o, walk me through the basics, Doc." Lup tosses on her coat in the lab-- she does make Barry finish his tea before going in. No room for exceptions when working with possible contagions, unfortch. "A good temp should be 98... BPM and respiration?" A quick look around finds the laser thermometer-- that'll do-- and she flips for a clean page of notes. Gods, maybe being a bio minor wouldn't have been such a bad idea. Less cool explosions though, so. She eyes the clock, waiting for the little hand to come around before counting off beats from Barry's wrist.

"98.6 for temp, uh, somewhere in the 65-70 range for pulse, respiration, like 12 breaths a minute minimum, up to 20 or so," he says. He grins and takes a seat, covering another cough with his arm. She's gonna check him over, pretty thoroughly, looks like, gods know whether she knows what she's doing if she's getting these numbers from him. But then, she'd stitched herself back up back on Dusk, maybe her knowledge is mainly practical, maybe mostly elf-centric? He could see that, and respect it, too; he supposes that's how folks figured this stuff out originally.

He holds still and falls silent while she checks his pulse and writes it down. He can't see, rats, he wonders how he's doing. Is he getting a good grade at this checkup? Is ‘doctor’s pet’ a thing? "What's next?" he asks lightly.

Lup scratches down the vitals she knows how to take, jotting the normal ranges down next to them for reference. A little high on the pulse there, but nothing too terrible. 

"I mean, I'm not a doctor, I'm a physicist and a chef. My first thought is fungal infection because of like. The everything about this place. Y'think if we got some agars going that could tell us anything?" She makes a few notes, mostly pot-shots at tests they might run. She catches him trying to peek over her notes and pulls them away with a chuckle. "Hey, confirmation bias much? You're breathin' and beatin', promise."

“That’s good news, anyhow,” Barry laughs, then coughs. “We could try agars, we could—“ he clears his throat. “It could be fungal, or bacterial, or viral, it seems sort of like a normal flu or something. I mean I’m not turning green or anything,” he says.

"Hey, for all we know turning green could be a good thing," Lup smiles, digging around for the plates. They clink on the counter, joined by good old fashioned swabs and vials. She hands the first to Barry. "I'm thinkin' cheek swab and blood samples? If you're down to clown. We can test for a couple things with those. But I'm not pokin' ya without consent so..." She waves a syringe with a wink-- gotta keep it fun or she's gonna start feeling like a doctor, and that dog don't hunt.

He takes the swab. Oh. Okay, she’s got a needle now, alright. This is fine, he did say he’d cooperate and needles are small and he is large.

He’s not scared of needles. He’s not scared of Lup. He’s being ridiculous, thing is that he just doesn’t know whether she’s ever drawn someone’s blood before.

What’s the worst that could happen, really? They can give it a stab, pun intended.

“Uh, yeah, just um...careful?” he says. He shoves the swab into his mouth.

His hesitance doesn't go unnoticed, and Lup sets the whole thing back on the sterile field. "Dude, you can say no? Like, I've done this before, but if you'd rather do it, or you don’t want to at all? That's okay." She takes the swab, getting to work inoculating the plates. It'll be fine, she rationalises. Even if we don't figure out what exactly this is, he'll either get better or come back in a few weeks. That last thought leaves her frowning. He'll probably get better. He better.

“Ohhhhhkay. No, yeah, that’s fine, I just, you know, I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be maybe a first-time pincushion,” he says. He chuckles a little in relief. “I should’ve known, you’re a woman of many talents. I trust you.”

He sticks out his arm, good to go. “Poke away, I’m—wait,” he says. He coughs into the other arm. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

"More like a woman of many odd jobs in college, but," She smiles, finishing up the plates and sticking them in the incubator. "I wouldn't offer to do it if I didn't know what I was doing. I'm no phlebotomist, but they'll hire anyone to help with those drug studies. Hours fit, seemed like a useful skill maybe, you never know. And here we are."

She ties off his elbow, getting right to work, and a bit of that practiced script comes out. "Right, hold that fist for me, little pinch," she mumbles, more to herself than anything-- surely Barry knows the drill. She presses a cotton ball to the mark, "Perfect, see? Totally know what I'm doing." She tosses him a wink on her way to prep the samples.

Amazing, she’s really good at this. And she  _ winked _ at him, and really this whole experience is remarkably good, for being sick on an alien plane in daily fear for their lives.

“That  _ was _ perfect, I barely felt it,” Barry says. He clears his throat. “Whew, little dry, remind me to grab something to drink when we’re through. What else you got for me?”

Her mind. Her skills. Her big sexy brain, maybe it’s the fever but Barry’s really soft on her and she’s paying attention to him and he’s  _ melting _ about it. He gives her a little smile.

"Yeah, no totally. Let me just get these prepping and we can take a break. How're you feelin'?" Lup separates a couple samples; throw in some anticoagulants, some without, and everything goes in the centrifuge for a couple minutes. She's not  _ entirely _ sure what to do with them after-- this is as far as she ever had to process samples at work-- but between Barry and her, they'll figure some tests out.

Barry mulls over the question. “Kinda gross, to tell you the truth. Kinda tired, kinda scratchy,” he admits. She’d call BS on any more  _ I’m fines _ for sure, and she’d be right anyhow. He really should take it easy, he’d make anyone else do the same if they were in his shoes.

Maybe they can drink some more tea. He doesn’t want to keep her from her work, but also it’ll suck to lie around alone and bored. Maybe he’ll get better quickly?

Lup sets the centrifuge to work, throwing down times and compositions in her notes. The samples would be fine for a bit until they figure out what exactly they're testing for, and honestly taking a day to just  _ exist _ kinda sounds baller. There really are no vacation days when you're outrunning the apocalypse. 

"Well, these samples need to figure their shit out, and you absolutely are gonna  _ chill _ , doctor's orders," she laughs, closing up her notes. "So looks like we've got the afternoon to ourselves. What do you wanna do?-- That  _ isn't _ lab work."

"Uh..." Barry stalls. The idea forming in his head is only going to work if he just sort of suspends all rational thought and consideration of context and appearances. "We could have some more tea and...maybe we could watch a movie?"

_ Don't think about it too hard, Barry, _ he tells himself. Don't think about how there's no good common area for this (yet?), don't think about how usually movie nights involve the crew piling up on someone's bed and obviously it only makes sense that he lie in his bed and not launch a germ-riddled invasion into someone else's space. And definitely don't think too hard about how all that means inviting Lup into his bed in a way that couldn't really be much further from ideal if he tried.

She didn't expect him to lie down without a fight. Literally-- Lup and Barry were alike in that little could keep them from  _ doing _ . Lab work, research, anything that would help the crew or the mission or really just give them a goal to work towards. It's what they were meant for. So when Barry not only agrees to take a break, but actively suggests something that requires little more than sitting, Lup is  _ thrilled _ . 

"Hell yeah, what's your poison? I refuse to watch All Dogs Go to Heaven 'til Mags is back just on principle, but anything else is fair game. What kinda stuff do you usually go for?" She double checks the incubator-- all good on the fungus front-- and leads the way to the kitchen. "Ohh, and tea, of course! Same as the last?"

Barry trails after her. "I don't know, maybe something familiar and we can just veg a little? Something funny maybe, or a little spooky? Just something to chill in front of," he says. He pauses to cough as they reach the kitchen, then takes a seat.

"You ever see Young Frankenstein?"

"Have I  _ seen it? _ " Lup's laugh scrunches her eyes. "Dude, Young Frankenstein's my  _ entire shit _ . Ohh we're abso _ lut _ ely watching that." She bops around the kitchen, setting the kettle on. Ohh, this will be  _ delightful _ . She's doing a good thing, keeping Barry in bed-- a good thing which totally has nothing to do with wanting to ignore the endless march of an encroaching void. The apocalypse can wait, they're taking a sick day. 

Steam rises, tea is prepared, and Lup makes for her room before she even realises, drinks and perfectly awful films setting off Twin Time protocol in her mind. "Shoot, where'd you wanna post up? One of these cycles we really should invest in like. A living room, huh?"

"We, uh," Barry starts. "We could go in my room, no sense in me coughing all over your whole area. Taako'd be pissed, huh?" he laughs a little. 

This is fine, it's totally fine. A funny movie and a hot drink with a good friend who's willing to check on him and care for him even though there's no  _ way _ she'd be interested in him the same way. She just does it because she's kind and that's just...so cool, Barry's brain can't really string together any better words than that.

"Fair, fair. Your's is probably tidier anyway." She chuckles, heading for hers. "We stole the projector the other night, lemme go grab it. I'll be over in a minute!" Her door slides open, and she disappears with a cheeky peace sign. 

_ Really, Lup? A peace sign? _ She has to roll her eyes at herself. The projector's still set up, easy enough to pack up and stick their copy of Young Frankenstein in with it. Hmm, if this is a true veg sesh, these pants deffo won't do.

Lup knocks on Barry's door, movie in hand, tea in the other, and fully decked in her movie night best. That is to say, a massive hoodie and the absolute comfiest  ~~ and bleach-stained ~~ of leggings. Sloth chic.

Barry opens the door, sporting flannel pajama bottoms and a worn-soft t-shirt, and having just kicked an errant pair of boxers under the bed. Oh, she's cute. She's cute and looks snuggly in her comfy clothes, ready to watch a movie with him. Gods, he's lucky, even sick like this.

He steps to the side to let her in. "Just, wherever's comfiest," he says. He crawls into the bed and nestles himself into the blankets, leaving plenty of space by his side.

"I see bright minds think alike." She gives his change of clothes a once over, "Very Candlenights Classic, I dig." Her mug is set on the nightstand alongside his, and she makes quick work of setting the movie up. A quick illusion cantrip sets captions floating on the curtain right below the spooky scene of a castle on a hill. 

Lup's never seen Barry look so  _ calm _ , and it absolutely has her heart melting. It'd be so easy to tuck up under the covers with him, cheek to chest...

But that would be entirely uncalled for, super un-profesh. She settles for sitting against the headboard with her mug in her lap, mouthing along to the opening goofs of the film. " _ They told me it was Fronk-en-shteen! _ " " _ Well they were wrong then, weren't they! _ " Never gets old.

Barry takes a long sip of his tea. It's delicious, and the movie is funny, and Lup is here, drinking tea and laughing. His body still kinda feels like someone beat him with a stick, but he's relaxed and happy, he realizes. He's so happy right now.

He nestles deeper into the covers. She's sitting on top, and they get a little stuck under her butt. He taps her arm. "Can I pull--you don't have to stay on top, if you want you can have some, too," he says, blushing slightly. It's just the fever, probably.

Ohh gods, he's really just going to go willingly into that soft duvet, huh? Lup tries not to laugh through a sip of tea, signing a quick  _ yeah, yeah _ as she sets the mug aside and pulls the blankets out from under her. Habit takes over, and before she realises the rules might be a tad different between twin snuggles and friend snuggles, her arm’s already over his shoulders. Sick boys are automatically the cuddle-ee, right? Too late to take it back now.

"This cool?" She hopes the  _ ahh geez ohh beans ohh gods _ doesn't come through in her voice. It's not like they haven't done this before.

"Yeah, it's real good," he answers, turning away for a quick cough. It is real good, that old saying about laughter being the best medicine may not be strictly true, medically speaking, but Barry sure does feel better for it.

Things might actually turn out okay, Barry decides. He's gonna get better and he and Lup are gonna figure out how to trace the Light, and soon it'll be a new year and Magnus will be back. Barry stifles a yawn. It's probably okay to just relax and watch this movie, nothing bad will happen.

Barry's yawn has Lup relaxing for real. A tired boy is a boy that will probably stay in bed and actually get some rest. And sleepy means comfortable, right? That reassurance is enough for Lup to let her head rest against his. She can feel his baritone laugh against her cheek, her strict regimen of tea and honey seeming to keep it from turning into a cough more often than not. Good. 

They've earned this, haven't they? For all the anger and sadness and exhaustion they've endured through nearly a decade, they finally have just a moment to breathe. Lup knows it won't last forever, and she won't get her hopes up for such unrealistic things. She'll just take these moments as they come, calm and quiet and well deserved.

As the movie plays on, Barry feels his eyelids start to droop. Lup snuggled up beside him and the weight of the blankets are taking him right out.

If it wasn’t absolutely  _ way _ inappropriate and too much to ask he’d be tempted to have her just sort of sit on him ‘til he naps more often. It’d probably do him some good.

Barry’s eyes drift closed, and the next thing anyone knows he’s fast asleep, his occasional snores mingled with the sound of the movie and Lup’s laughter at the goofs.

It wouldn't have taken Lup long to realise Barry'd fallen asleep if not for the fact that the concept of actually relaxing was throwing her for a very sleepy loop. When she wakes up, it's to Taako knocking on the door, and  _ coming in anyway _ when he doesn't hear a response. He gives her an appropriate amount of shit, but after she explains that  _ the boy is sick, Ko, chill _ , he waves it off. They head off to make dinner-- Auntie's chicken soup-- and leave Barry to rest. When he wakes, there's a bowl on the nightstand, enchanted to keep warm.

\--

Barry recovers quickly from what turns out to be a run-of-the-mill touch of the flu. No murder spores, thank the gods. Waking to find soup waiting for him has him smiling and thinking a whole bunch of fond thoughts he can’t voice just yet.

When the Hunger descends, the Starblaster is ready. And it turns out, the people of Fungston are too. Lup cracks potshots from the deck that disappear into the haze of fire spreading outwards from the town, her encouraging hollers met with battle cries from below. She's not going to miss this world, but she'll never forget its people. Stubborn, resilient, and giving the apocalypse a run for its damned money. Yeah, she's gonna miss these guys.

As the Starblaster lifts off, Barry braces to be pulled back into his position, watching as the scorchers take on the Hunger, knowing that at least some of them will survive, this time. As he comes back to himself, back in his spot in the deck, Barry turns, ready to see Magnus again, healthy and alive, after too long.

Magnus is, as expected, bombarded by hugs and warnings to "never pull that shit again, my dude". The crew quickly reassure him that they'd found the Light, and Lup relates the scene he'd missed as they flew away, everyone coming together and beating back the Hunger together. 

"This time, stick around to see it when we kick the void's ass, yeah?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: New cycle next week folks! No spoilers but I for one am so, so excited for it!  
> SA: Gods, me too. You know I'm here for Hu/Co, but maybe... maybe a little more Co next time? 😭


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew touches down on a fairly advanced plane with a...really unexpected culture.
> 
> Oh well, you know, when in Fantasy Rome, right? It’s fine!
> 
> Everything’s fine!

\-- CYCLE 16 --

Initial readings are looking promising as the Starblaster descends into its 17th planar system. Air looks close to home, there's vegetation, water, and what look to be settlements. A larger town seems to have a central courtyard with green space and sidewalks ringed by tall buildings. People hustle and bustle in and out of businesses on the lowest level, and tidy rows of windows seem to indicate cozy apartments stacked up above them. That could be something. Davenport brings her down steady, within walking distance of the place. "Look alive, team, let's hope these guys are friendly."

Barry looks around as they approach the town on foot. This place seems structured, well organized and upkept. The locals go about their business, smiling and greeting each other. 

One couple walks out to meet the crew as they come. “Hello!” one says brightly. “Welcome, welcome, we’re always glad to see new folks here. I’m Trish, this is Reggie. Will you be staying?” The pair swing their clasped hands affectionately between them.

The crew exchanges glances, and Davenport answers. “Thank you, we’d love to stay, home is...far away, for us.”

“Ah, wonderful! Let’s get you all to the matchmaking office and get your coupling assignments handled. Happiest wishes!” Reggie chimes in.

Their  _ fucking what now? _ Barry doesn’t like the sound of that at all, he doesn’t want a  _ coupling assignment, _ thank  _ you! _ He’s been accustomed to making his own decisions about his own life and body, and this whole idea is  _ offputting. _ Maybe those words don’t mean what they sound like?

“Our, uh, sorry—our what now?” he asks.

"Your coupling assignments! Gosh, you really are from far away, how  _ interesting _ . Of course, allow me to explain," Trish's cheery tone has Lup on edge already. She looks at Taako, who is already shooting her an  _ I don't trust like that _ look. 

"Upon the age of majority, we are all made matches of. Of course it's entirely voluntary-- you can be rematched at any time. People are just...  _ happier _ together! More productive, better equipped to face life."

"It's been our way for centuries." Reggie offers. "Of course, if you already have matches, surely we wouldn't jeopardise those." They give their partner a smile, clearly content with their match.

Taako reaches for the first hand that's not Lup's. Magnus gives him a confused expression. "Unfortch, cha'boi's already spoken for. " Magnus starts a question, and Taako just gives his hand a firm squeeze. "Right,  _ babe? _ "

Lup, of course, does the only sensible thing and follows Taako's lead, looping her arm through Barry's. She absolutely does not cotton to the idea of arranged  _ anything _ . "Yeah, uhh, same here actually!" She shoots him a toothy grin. Please,  _ please _ , play with me in this space...

Barry smiles at Lup softly as he sees Merle and Davenport drift closer together out of the corner of his eye.  _ Oh, hell yes??? _ The  _ dream, _ even if it’s just pretend, he still  _ wants this. _ Time to sell it.

He puts his hand on Lup’s arm linked with his, giving it an affectionate little pat. “Yeah, won’t be needing an assignment, I’m keeping this one as long as she’ll have me,” he says. He grins besottedly, finally letting the expressions he’s been guarding for eleven years out to play.  _ Hell yes. _

Lup's smile goes all soft and, despite herself, she feels... butterflies. How can he just pull that sweet nonsense out of nowhere? She didn't peg Barry as an actor-- his outright lies are definitely wanting. But she's glad he's pulling this one off.

“What, um, hmmm,” Lucretia begins. “What does the matchmaking process entail?”

"Ohh it's all very specialised, they're ohh so clever about it! You'll meet with a professional matchmaker-- dear, Teddy's still practicing, right?" Trish muses, then turns back to Lucretia. "She made our match, just the sweetest woman. Anyhow, you'll discuss any preferences with your matchmaker, and they'll help you pull a few options, arrange a meeting with whoever you fancy from there, very simple really."

Lucretia thinks for a moment, her hesitancy prompting Davenport's intervention. "Well, the age of majority in  _ our _ home--" 

She puts a hand up. "It's alright, Captain. I suppose it would be beneficial to experience a piece of the culture. Where do we begin?" It might just be part of the act, but Lup would swear she looks downright  _ eager _ to see this practice through. Always so dedicated to recording cultural traditions, that girl.

“Wonderful! Just come with me, I can take you to Teddy’s--darling, would you mind taking the rest to get homes assigned? I’ll see you back at home,” Trish says.

“Of course, dear,” Reggie replies easily, planting a little kiss on Trish’s cheek. “Miss me a bit, I’ll see you soon.”

Barry’s grin widens. Are all the couples here this affectionate? Because if that’s the prevailing custom, then this might be the literal best plane  _ ever. _ “Good luck, Luce,” he says, waving as she’s led off—pretty enthusiastically, as far as he can tell. “Let us know if you need anything!” This is fine.

He turns to Lup as the group starts to follow Reggie further into the town. “Come on dear, let’s go find our home,” he says, ostensibly for Reggie’s benefit, extremely for his own benefit. He watches her face for her ongoing reactions—is  _ dear _ good? He hopes so, it’s  _ very _ good for him.

"Hell yeah, babe." Lup gives him a little wink out of sight of their guide. If they can all keep their ruses up, this might be a relatively easy year. If the people are really as nice as they seem. She's accustomed not to believe things that seem a little too perfect, but she reminds herself that those fears are made of a different world.  _ Several _ different worlds. The least she can do is hope. 

And then she sees the sterile white walls and minimalistic furniture of the apartment they want to put her in, and  _ absolutely not _ . Lup's list of "Planes I Trust" is whittled right back down to  _ none _ . 

She nudges Barry, "Hey, uhh,  _ dear _ . We should... talk to someone about the Light, yeah?"

Barry nods. She’s uncomfortable, he can’t put his finger on the why, though. Maybe being separated from Taako? He files that conversation away for later; if he needs to bunk with Magnus so the twins can be together at night...well it’s not the simplest choice, but if it’s the most comfortable for her then they can make it happen. Just a lot of joint breakfasts, maybe, make it look how it needs to.

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Maybe there’s a mayor or something, whoever something wild like that would get reported to.  _ You okay? _ ” He signs the last, just to be sure.

_ "Yeah, yeah.”  _ She waves his worry away with a quick sign, switching to Common when the distinct feeling of the walls closing in draws her arms to cross around herself. “The place just needs a new aesthetic, dontcha think?”

Of course. The bland room is a little offputting, now that she mentions it. It needs some comfortable stuff, Barry thinks as he looks around, something to soften it. Couch blankets, pillows or something. Mail on the table, what have you. Benign clutter that tells a story, moved in patterns to trace folks' lives. They've got a year, though, they can settle in and get comfy. He glances at Reggie, who's still there. "Can't wait to get moved in, decorate a bit," he says.

“Reggie, would there be someone who might deal in... hmm, community safety? We have some news that might be relevant to them." Lup pads around the little living area. Some bright colours, some  _ things _ , she can work with this. It's just unsettling for now, but a girl can make do.

Reggie turns back from heading out, ponders for a moment. "The PSRs could most likely handle it, unless you think it's something for the governess' attention?" He gives the two a look of concern. "Is it an urgent matter? I'm sure you could get an appointment with her in a few days' time."

Barry nods at Reggie's answer. "Probably the governess I'd imagine," he says. He exchanges glances with Lup. The Light hasn't fallen yet, a few days could give them time to scope this place out a bit and get situated. "We'd love to set up that appointment, as soon as is convenient."

Reggie's face gives a brief expression of surprise. "Certainly, the town center is only a short walk this way," they say, gesturing out the door and to the right. "Larry handles scheduling, right at the desk in the front, I'm sure he'll be happy to help."

"Perfect, thank you." Lup throws her best cheery nod his way. "Thank you for your hospitality. We should take a look around town, unless there's anything else that needs straightening up?" 

Reggie tosses the keys her way, "That should do it. Town centre has most things I can't help you folks with; job boards, markets, all that good stuff. And if you guys need anything at all, feel free to swing on by." They hand a little card to Barry, with a name and address. "We're always happy to welcome new pairs." And with that, Reggie's off, presumably to play welcome party elsewhere. 

As soon as the door's shut, Lup looks from the keys in her hands to Barry, keys jingling as she signs.  _ "This is... weird. This is weird, right? I don't trust it. _ " 

" _ Okay, yes, very weird, thank you. They didn't ask any of the normal questions? _ " Barry replies. He looks out the peephole in the door. Reggie's disappeared down the hall for the moment, but still, Barry doesn’t trust that they’re out of earshot.

" _ Davenport just said 'we're from far away' and they bought it without comment? No one's done that. _ " He pauses. " _ We should keep our eyes open and check in with Luce for sure. _ "

" _ Did we just Not Pay For This House?? _ " Lup is already one-hundo percent convinced there’s some murderous sub-plot to this buckwild society. No way in hell people are nice and trusting and  _ naïve _ like this? " _ Yeah Hi, we're new here -- Oh chill, here's an apartment, also which of these fools are you married to? What??" _ She's taken to pacing the living space, trying and failing to rationalise everything in her mind. 

" _ We've gotta go check on the others, right? Are we... Are we staying here? _ " The thought has all her anxiety scaled to 10, but the thought of standing out in this society? Raising suspicion?? That's an 11, baybee.

Barry watches her pacing, turning the little card over in his hand. Okay, okay, she's absolutely right, and in agreement with his prickling anxiety. He checks the peephole again. Clear. He cracks the door and peers out, looking in all directions. He closes the door again. "Reggie's gone," he confirms aloud. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a breath to think.

"Okay. I think, for sure we've gotta check on the others, definitely. We should keep up appearances, I think, to blend in? That was quick thinking out there, we basically have a built in buddy system except for Luci," he says. "We should probably get backstories straight, how we met and all, just in case. And like...how we wanna go about this? I don't know if everyone here's like them, but Trish and Reggie seemed pretty noticeably affectionate; we'll probably wanna...work out what we're cool with." That'll be a conversation, huh? But it's better than  _ not _ having it and winding up in a predicament.

Alright. Okay. It's not just her that absolutely does not trust this place.  _ Good _ . They'll stick together, their little crew, and find the Light, and get out of here. Just stick to the charade, play nice. Get some  _ fucking drapes in here Jesus Fantasy Fuck _ . 

"Yeah, deffo. Gods, we should call up Luce... Invite her over for a fuckin'... I dunno,  _ housewarming? _ Or something?" Breathe, Lup. This is only your third worst fear possibly come to life. "And yeah, I'm deffo not out here showing these people our whole ass, like. A kiss on the cheek is nothing compared to like...  _ whatever bullshit is afoot _ . If this" she gestures between the two of them, "is keeping us in their good graces? Fuckin' wife me up, Bluejeans."

Okay, yes, absolutely, but maybe now is not the time to be self-indulgent, Barry thinks. He grins. "Oh, wife you up? Careful what you ask for," he teases.

Barry crosses over to her and gently takes the keys Reggie had tossed to her. He drops to one knee and looks up into her face, holding up the keyring. "Lup Tacco, will you fake marry me?"

Maybe it's the time to be a  _ little _ self-indulgent.

Her eyes go wide and her ears go pink.  _ Wait what? Have they gotten to Barry? Are they brainwashing them already?? _ She's half a step back before his actual words catch up to her, and then she's laughing. Nope, that's Barry. 

Lup extends an ohh-so dainty hand, covering a snort with her other. "Ohh,  _ Bear _ . Of course I fake accept!" The ring of keys falls heavy around her finger like a gaudy costume piece, and she can't stop giggling for the life of her. Who'd have thought, after all they'd gone through and everything they'd lost, she'd still get proposed to. In a perfect world, the joy would sit differently, but today it's enough to press pause on her racing anxiety. "Let's share the good news! And, y'know, check up on everyone else." She grins, fiddling with the too-big ring. 

In another world...

Her laughter as she accepts the keyring sets Barry off, and he laughs too as he stands back up. “Wonderful, happy fake marriage to us!” he teases. Even if it’s just fake, it still feels good to delight her this way. It’s starting to feel like they can take on whatever this plane throws at them as long as they do it together.

“Hope the rest are doing as well with this as we are. And maybe we can bring back, I don’t know, a blanket or something for the couch, some sort of throw pillows? This place is...not warm enough, somehow,” he says.

"Gods, you can say that again! Feels like a  _ hospital _ in here..." Yeesh, don't think about it, don't think about it, just go find your friends and check out the town and do not think about it. 

Lup heads for the door, waiting to grab Barry's hand before they actually head out. 

As they walk out hand in hand, Barry can’t help but smile. So they’ll stay on their toes, what else is new? They’ve done that before, they’ll do it again. At least here they’ve got shelter and should be able to handle basic needs. One of them, at minimum, will need a job, probably. That’s also something doable.

Luckily the crew seems to all be on the same floor. Taako and Mags are across the hall, Cap and Merle down a few doors. Little blessings. She Sends Luce, who seems to be enjoying experiencing the local customs, a fact that is only  _ incredibly worrying _ .

The others don’t seem to be too bothered pairing up this way, as far as Barry can tell. Taako, notably, is sporting a smirk more often than not, Merle and Davenport seem content, and Magnus looks comfortable. Lucretia is a special case; she seems happy when she replies to Lup, but she’s also more at risk in Barry’s estimation. If there’s any type of brainwashing involved, she’ll be vulnerable if she’s on her own.

They huddle up in Merle and Dav’s apartment. “So, uh, we’re gonna try to meet with the governess here about the Light, but they said it might be a few days. What are we feeling here, guys, it’s kinda weird, huh?” Barry says.

“You mean a place that’s finally showing some respect?” A sharp look from Lup cracks Taako’s flippancy. “Okay yeah, it’s weird. But they’re at least not trying to  _ kill us _ .” 

“We can play in this space, at least until we can get an audience with this... Governess.” Davenport surveys the faces of his crew, “I know this isn’t exactly part of your job descriptions— if anyone is uncomfortable playing their game, speak now and we’ll figure something out.”

Magnus shrugs. “I mean, we’ve just gotta act like we like each other?” He turns to Taako with a grin. “That should be easy, right?”

Barry nods in agreement. “We talked, I’m totally on board,” he says, gesturing to Lup. “I mean really as long as communication stays open and everyone respects each other? If any group could pull this off, it would be us.”

Merle nods, too, in a way that looks like he and Davenport have already settled the matter. “Luce, though, man, she sounded happy with it but I’d be lying if I said this didn’t make me kinda nervous,” he says.

"Yeah, she sounded... good?" Lup looks uncertain, even as she says it. "I'll talk with her when she gets back, y'know, girl to girl, make sure it's all true. They might have been able to hear her? I dunno."

"If she's chill with it, though? I mean, who better to check out the customs than our literal historian?" Taako seems more than willing to believe everything's fine, but Lup can tell he's trying to convince himself along with the rest of them. 

"She's a capable kid. We probably have nothing to worry about, but stay alert regardless. Until we hear back from her, let's do as we always do; food, water, shelter, Light." Davenport reels them back to the mission, "And be thankful that at least one of those has been provided. Settle in, report back in the morning."

"Breakfast at our place!" Magnus calls as they head out, gaining a groan and a handwave from Taako. 

"Yeah, whatever. Don't be late!"

Settle in. Okay, they can do that. Barry turns to Lup as they step out into the hall. "You wanna maybe grab some stuff from the ship? We'll need clothes and all, we could maybe start with that. Get something familiar in there," he suggests.

Barry could probably get comfy in a cardboard box if Lup was there with him, but he emphatically doesn't like the waves of discomfort rolling off her as she moves through these blank rooms. First priority is safety, but with no obvious threat, a close second is comfort--isn't that sort of mental safety? And he'd be lying if he said it didn't get under his skin, too. He mentally runs over the things in his room; surely some of it will be nice to have around, they'll just have to remember to pack up with plenty of time to spare at the end of the year.

Lup nods enthusiastically, hand tucked at his elbow. "Ohh hell yeah. And we've gotta find, like. A market or something, cause a house is hardly a home til you've cooked in it." This is alright. They can do this. Maybe she'll paint the walls, piss off the landlord, they'll be like a proper new couple.

Okay, slow down. It's still an act, even if maybe the thought of staying in a white-walled cookie-cutter complex is softened by the knowledge that he'll be there with her. Even if they find their sync walking side by side so quickly. Even if, maybe, she could want to try something for real. But she pushes those thoughts back down as they walk back to the ship, hand in hand. It's not fair to Barry, to think of him like that. They're still colleagues, among everything else, and broaching the subject would only lead to resentment. It's impossible to have that conversation knowing that, if things go wrong? Neither party has an out. The cycles will keep coming, whether they like it or not. Whether they like  _ each other _ or not. And liking each other as friends is far more important than indulging some maybe-crush.

Oh, she's gonna  _ cook! _ Barry is excited for this; their home-- _ their home, gods _ \--will smell like...cinnamon, and garlic and peppers and bread, maybe, and she's right, then it'll be less like a collection of modular rooms and more like the place they live in.  _ Together. _

If the locals on the plane wanna murder them, Barry's gonna die a happy man, fake married to a beautiful wife who he is  _ deeply _ in love with. Worth it, honestly.

They walk along, close and comfortable, Lup's hand at his elbow sending little zings of joy through him. They're  _ good _ together, even if she's way out his league appearance-wise, they fit well as people, he thinks. He desperately wishes this was real, but that's not about to stop him from taking what he's given.

"Definitely, we'll need food for sure and probably like, some really dumb little stuff? Like I remember when I got my first apartment and about four days in was shocked to learn that kitchen drawers don't come stocked with those little ties from bread bags. There were  _ none, zero _ bread ties in my new place. Absolutely baffling," he laughs.

Lup snorts, hiding her laugh against his arm. "The little twisty-ties? Those are so annoying! I will have no such thing in my kitchen. In this house, we twist the bag and tuck it under, like  _ civilised folks _ ." They're gonna have to figure those little idiosyncrasies out too, huh? Living in a pre-packed ship is one thing; everything already has a place, a protocol, a schedule. Having a place of their own  ~~ no, not like that ~~ will throw an interesting wrench in all that pre-established stuff. 

Gods, there's probably only one bedroom, huh? 

Back on the ship,  Lup packs up her clothes, a few personal things, wondering if Barry has a preferred side of the bed. When it's up to him, when the world isn't ending and they're not in a Hut in the woods, is he a one pillow guy, or two? It's silly to wonder, she's going to find out soon enough.

Barry starts loading things up: jeans, shirts, pajamas, socks, underpants, uniforms, it's all gotta come, along with whatever he can grab that makes him relax on sight. What's the dresser-to-closet-space situation in the apartment anyway? He didn't really check that out thoroughly, but it's about to get relevant. He laughs to himself thinking about the bread tie discussion. What other weird habits does she have?

Oh gods. Lup's so chaotic so much of the time. RIP to the toothpaste tube, huh?

He hesitates, his hand over his bedroll. They probably won't go camping, but maybe they might if the Light falls away from town? Probably not, he could come back and get it if he needs it.

But she might not want to commit to a full year of bedsharing, a night or two in a Hut is one thing, but a year? A year's an  _ entire year. _

What if he just leaves it and trusts that it'll be fine?

He takes it. Seeing it there, tangible, will give her concrete options, not just an abstract promise that she's not under any pressure.

Gods, he hopes it  _ gathers dust. _

Lup did not bring enough objects on this mission to fill an entire apartment. They were planning for two months; furnishing a whole place wasn't even  _ remotely _ on the radar. Some blankets and familiar books will have to do. Taako will probably come looking for some of them, but he should've gotten there first. 

She makes sure to bring back some food from the ship, since it's unlikely to keep all year anyway, and realises her mistake on the walk back, when the basket of foodstuffs in her arms keeps her from holding Barry's hand. It's not dire of course, no one can be affectionate all the time. Still, the gesture is missed. 

The whole situation strikes Barry as surreal. How did this  _ happen, _ actually? It's  _ buckwild. _

He likes walking so close, even if their arms are full he still gets to steal affectionate little glances and chatter back and forth with her--it's expected, even! It'd be weird if he didn't!

\--

Lup’s wicker basket goes to one hip, and she swings the apartment door open, nose visibly scrunching at the sight of their blank slate. "We've got our work cut out for us, huh?" Foodstuffs settle on the counter to be put away; she'll get around to unpacking her clothes and things when she has to actually  _ look _ at the bedroom. "Anything you're wanting for dinner? We can make do with this stuff, of course, if we can't figure out how to, like. Buy ingredients. But on the off chance we can?"

Barry sets down his load, unstacking a big bag from on top of a box on top of a laundry hamper, setting down his pack. Stuff for the living room, stuff for the bedroom, a couple of things for the bathroom-- _ what is the toilet paper situation here? Is this a bidet type of place? If it's a septic tank... _

"Hmmm, maybe something simple? Since we're doing all this, even just pasta or something," he answers. He starts to pull out a few books and set them neatly on a shelf, digging down in the box til he finds what he's looking for.

He pulls out a blanket, a big throw made of dozens of multicolored granny squares, and settles it gently over the back of the couch. There. That's better already.

Pasta, yeah, she can do that with what they've got. She gets to work packing away jars of rice and beans and shoving the perishables in the icebox.  _ Thank gods there's an icebox _ . And with shelves sporting food and even the few basic cooking implements set about the counter, it feels a little less empty already. Once something gets cooking, it'll be even better. 

Lup sets a pot of water to boil, picking up her pack and heading to the bedroom. The sooner this is done, the sooner she'll feel better about being here. Her guess was right; one bed sits in the middle of a far wall. There's a window, dresser, closet, all the usual suspects. She gets to work folding clothes into drawers, and chucks her robes on the back of the desk chair for good measure. 

After a few minutes she pops back out to check the water. "Hey, you a left-side or right-side of the bed guy?"

Barry grins, bent over a box, then straightens up and turns. "Right, if that's cool, but I'm, uh, flexible when it comes to, y'know, bed."

_ Welp, there weren't too many ways to make that sentence carry more innuendo, were there buddy? _ he tells himself sarcastically, cheeks heating slightly. Just, show his whole ass, right now, immediately.

She snorts, stirring pasta into the pot. "Ooh la la-- he's  _ flexible _ ." She sets the spoon across the pot, coming over to help unpack. "Good thing I snagged ya when I did, these alien girls'd be fightin' for ya." She chuckles, setting some more well-loved books on the windowsill. Could use some plants. Can Barry keep a plant alive? Gods know she can't. 

Barry does blush now, and narrowly avoids actually  _ giggling. _ If only there was the smallest smidgeon of hope that she'd want to put that flexibility to the test. He's gonna chuck that bedroll into the  _ very back _ of the closet. "Lucky you," he teases. "We should probably make a list of anything essential we're missing as we notice," he muses, recovering a little.

"Yeah, that works for me. Probably gonna have to, like. Get jobs, huh? Wonder what sort of stuff we can do out there..." Her first thought, or maybe a hope, is that they'll have instruments here like back home. She's a bit out of practice, but she could teach the basics if this place has something violin-esque. Would people want to learn magic? Would they be capable? Maybe this plane lacks a signed Common? Either way, teaching seems like the simplest choice. It'll be hard enough to learn how this new society functions in a year, let alone how to do a job that might not have ever existed to her. But she can teach what she already knows, easy.

Her question gives him pause. Probably not a lot in the job market for alien biologists, but he could easily do, what, paperwork in an office? Some sort of medical lab work? That could be ideal. If they've gotten all the way through the big problems to a point where they're concerned about fixing folks up in marriages for optimum happiness, surely they've got decent healthcare. Folks've gotta live to adulthood and not be at significant risk of dying early for domestic bliss to take up that much cultural bandwidth.

"We could check, uh, Reggie mentioned job boards at the town center, we could head over there after dinner or maybe tomorrow," he says. "Maybe there'll be some stuff there that's a good fit."

"Yeah, hopefully." Hopefully this place is all it's cracked up to be, and not the Fantasy Stepford Wives sitch Lup's trying not to think about. 

Lup's chopping up the last plane's approximation of garlic when there's a ring in her ear. Well, her.. mind's ear? Lucretia Sends that all went well, and that she plans to crash on the ship for the night. Lup nods along, relaying this to Barry and shooting back her own update. "Sounds good, we're briefing at breakfast. They've got us in like. Apartments? Send one of us in the morning and we'll get ya directions. Promise me you're alright?" 

Luce swears up and down that she's perfectly fine, and has a few, quote, "test matches" the following afternoon. "I'll see you in the morning, Lup. Happy fake honeymoon." They both laugh out their goodnights, and the connection falls quiet. 

"Wanna set the table? Luci's gonna meet us for breakfast, says she's lovin' it here. Guess we'll get the lowdown in the morning." She finishes up the spices and oil, throwing the whole mess into a skillet. Five ingredients, not terribly fancy, but  _ fucking delicious _ for something quick. And? Totally dairy-free. Booyah.

"I'm on it. It smells fantastic," Barry says. His stomach's already growling as he lays out two places.

The whole situation just feels  _ right, _ but somehow several inches to the left. Oh well. It's good enough, it doesn't have to be perfect, and even if there is a hidden danger they'll deal with it as it comes. Right now it's time to eat some noodles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: A new cycle means new playlists! Got those links for your listening pleasure as the crew works out this new and oh-so-difficult challenge 😂
> 
> SA: Yeah, sooo difficult 😂How ever will they cope!
> 
> ST: [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/05t5wkPisZif9vjZJxzoA5?si=tI0jvD5RSxKUpXtZQfo8fg)
> 
> SA: [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VvvtbWQFGgkXsMJkuqBU8?si=hb8MWKWhTvSsjEunTK-G7g)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lup and Barry get settled into their new home together.

Lup and Barry sit down to dinner, easy as anything. They chat and joke, and they're still laughing when the pasta's all gone. Hell, a bottle of wine and a well placed candle, and it might even be downright romantic. It's all grossly domestic and honestly? Lup's eating it up. Had everything gone to plan, had the mission been two months and nothing more, had fifteen years passed as they were meant to, who's to say they wouldn't be in a similar apartment, having a similar dinner, laughing about similar retold stories. It just might mean a little more. 

Turns out showers are a fairly universal constant, and Lup claims first go while Barry takes a crack at the dishes. She takes the time to set up all her things in the cupboard, her toothbrush on the counter. Very nearly a home. 

Barry gathers up the dishes from the table and sets about washing them, towel thrown over one shoulder. Dinner was so nice, a kind of normal he could get used to. He wonders whether the two of them will ever run out of things to talk about.

He hopes they have enough time to find out.

With the dishes finished, and the table and counters wiped down, Barry wanders back out to the living room.

When Lup returns, she's a bit more relaxed, a bit more in her element in her signature massive t-shirt and even bigger glasses. She sets up shop on the couch with her spellbook, pulling the massive patchwork quilt over her legs. "Bathroom's all yours, I'm gonna try to work out some theory on the Triangulation thing. The uhh, water's a bit on the warm side, just so ya know."

_ Oh. _ There she is, still a little flushed from the hot water, all t-shirt and glasses and bare legs, cocooned in the crocheted warmth of the blanket his mom sent him off with when he left home. Now that’s  _ right, _ no matter what other circumstances, the sight of her like this is  _ right. _ Barry tucks the moment away, safe in untouchable memory, where it can never be taken from him. After a long few seconds, Barry finds his voice. “Thanks, uh, might join you after if that’s cool.”

“Sure thing, have fun,” she chuckles, turning back to her book. If they get the Light this year— no,  _ when _ they get the Light-- they’re in for some good good research. The previous cycle’s forward momentum has pages and pages tucked into the divination bits of her spell book, versions of this or that spell that works in theory, a few that  _ actually work _ . It’s safe to say they haven’t thought of even remotely everything, but she’s got plenty of ideas to puzzle over while Barry washes up. 

Maybe they’ll get the chance to work  _ with _ these people. They appear so advanced compared to some of the places they’ve been, maybe their labs are capable of things the IPRE isn’t...

Barry heads off to the bathroom, grinning like a fool to see her toothbrush and—alright, he’ll bite, what the _fuck_ is toothbrushing _powder?_ He showers and wraps up in a towel, then dresses in pajama bottoms--and hesitates. He normally just sleeps in these; he’ll throw on a shirt if he’s hanging out with the crew, just so as to preserve some sort of psychological distinction between the privacy of his room and the common living space, but. Hmmm.

Lup’s got her entire legs out in there, she’s seen him without a shirt before, it’s fine. They can communicate like adults and he can grab a shirt if he needs to.

He stows the rest of his clothes in the dresser, hangs up his robe in the closet, and a few moments later he’s padding barefoot out to the living room again, notebook in hand and a pen behind his ear. He pauses for a second just to look. Gods, she’s so smart. He flickers the lights. “Delivery, one freshly showered boy,” he says playfully.

Lup peeks up, and  _ ohh. Hello _ . She hopes the flick of the lights masks the Look™️ this freshly showered boy earns from her. She scoots over, patting the spot by her feet. “Welcome back. Wanna get some eyes on this theory I’ve been fiddling with?”

She wonders what sort of little changes he’s made while he was gone. Gods if he left the toilet seat up, they’re going to have some chatting to do. She smiles at the thought of domestic bickering, of worrying about something that isn’t life or death.

Barry heads over and settles in next to her. “I’d love that, whatcha got?” he asks.

There’s a warm spot left from before she moved. She looks so cozy, and maybe it was wishful thinking or a trick of the light but Barry could’ve sworn she took her time looking at him as he came in. He’s not really accustomed to thinking of his body as something to look at longer than one looks at anything, just enough to determine its location, etc. Really, his body’s just kind of a given, has a few dos and don’ts to it, but ultimately just  _ is. _

Wonder whether she has an opinion on it?

Lup hands her book over, open to the page in question, and leans heavy against the back of the couch. If she doesn't think too much about it, she can convince herself that things had gone differently. They're just two people, living together, doing some weird science together. No need to save the world or worry about leaving in a year. It would be nice. 

And if this was what she had to look forward to this year? If by some miracle it could be a more permanent thing? Yeah, Lup wouldn't mind that. 

"So, whadaya think? The theoretical stuff I  _ think _ works out? But if we're gonna be mixing magic and like. Literal actual maths-style physics? I dunno, I might have overlooked something."

Barry takes the book, balancing it on one knee and his notebook on the other, fidgeting his pen in his hand. It’s solid work, the math checks out, and the theory looks sound. It’ll need testing, but he’s confident that it’s just a matter of time til they get the Light. They’ve got to.

Honestly, he’s used to doing this type of thing in the lab, but this is far more comfortable. It reminds him of back home, studying or doing paperwork on his couch after work. The blanket’s even the very same one he used to pull over himself to keep off the chill, and there’s fading light from the window.

“This looks good, this right here?” he taps the pen on an equation, “That oughta solve—remember how it just didn’t work if there was anything between us and it that one time? This could keep that from happening, I think,” he says.

Lup grins at the praise, “Thanks, I was hoping it might account for the spatial interruptions. Glad it wasn’t just wishful thinking.” She pulls her knees up, hair leaving a damp mark on the couch. Okay, with the blankets, and a meal under their belts, and getting to work? The place doesn't feel as awful. 

They shoot a couple of equations back and forth, a volley of "okay, but"s and "hear me out"s and "play with me in this space, Barold"s. Eventually, maybe for not noticing ~~she definitely intends it~~ or for lack of caring ~~she definitely cares~~ , her legs end up draped over Barry's knees, a Mage Hand holding her notes above her, sprawled out over the couch. Gods, they need to get a couch on the ship, this is so much better than the kitchen table. 

He likes this. He likes this a lot; her legs are a comfortable weight in his lap. He takes her theories and tosses back questions, trying to dig in and make sure any weak spots are covered. This is really starting to come together.

"Okay. So. Hear me out. Instead of the light frequency of the Light. We use the  _ difference _ between that frequency and the mean ambient light of the plane? It's-- It's a stretch!  _ Buuuuuuut! _ weirder things have worked!" She's starting to feel a bit like they need a conspiracy wall, red string and all. But they're making progress, in theory. And it's  _ fun _ , so sue them.

Those feet are just...there, enticing in their bareness. He cups a hand under her heel, not even really thinking about it  ~~ overthinking it for  _ sure _ ~~ , as he agrees. “I mean  _ much _ weirder things have worked? It’s weird that any of this is happening!”

She's nodding, halfway through a sleep-hazy response, when her Mage Hand falters in its motion for just a second and a few pages of notes come spilling from the air onto her. The sound she makes is definitely not one she intends to make, more of a quickly-bitten "Eep!" than an actual word, caught between giggles. Her foot flinches out of his hand, fluid and pointed like a dagger in warning. 

"I am  _ not _ responsible for any injuries resulting from tickling,  _ Babe _ ." She snorts, biting her lip.  _ You're on the edge of a dangerous game, Bluejeans... _ One she kind of hopes he'll play. A baseless hope, but she's been one to dream, as of late.

Oh? Oh her feet are  _ ticklish? _ That's  _ delightful, _ made doubly so by the endearment. How many times has ‘babe’ been on the tip of her tongue only to be startled out now?

"Oh? Tickling? Your feet? Like this?" Barry asks, catching an ankle and holding it loosely as he runs a finger lightly up the sole of her foot. A few kicks would be worth it for more of those giggles. And sometimes it's fun to be a little bit of a bastard, just to tease.

"Don't you da-- _ ahh! _ " She's caught between a squeal and a slew of giggles, yanking her foot out of his hands, only for her toes to return in a valiant assault against his bare stomach. Two can play at this game. And two will try, valiantly, until one is reminded that it most definitely won't end the way her mind wants it to-- close quarters and breathy laughs. The remainder of her notes fall around her, blocking her blush and the playful flick of her ears. The nice thing about having their own space is that no one will be there to stumble over what they leave out, or criticise the mess. 

No one would even know. 

Now there's a thought...

Ooh, she's returning fire! Barry squirms as her toes come after him, throwing his head back and letting out a hearty "Lup! Ahhhaha  _ gods! _ " as her notes spill all over her.

What else is ticklish on her? Gods, he wants to know.

"So you've found my secret weakness," he says playfully, "and it looks like I found yours, so if we're gonna make this fake marriage work we're gonna have to pay attention to  _ reciprocity-- _ " he cuts himself off with a laugh.

Lup's eyes go wide and she laughs, falling sidelong against the back of the couch. Her notes are forgotten, scattered on the floor like so much fallout, a byproduct of arriving in this moment with his hands on the most innocuous parts of her, their laughs mingling in this place for  _ them _ . 

If only it was real. 

No one's watching, of course. They're not actively putting on a show for the locals. But the circumstances can't be ignored. They're on a plane that expects them to be together, happily, in whatever capacity that means. They're on an endless mission through space and time, one with no way to press pause without repercussions. They're stuck together, here. He's stuck with her. And she can't assume that, if the situation were different, this is what he'd choose. 

But gods, that laugh is something. And if it comes under scrutiny, she  _ did _ warn him. Lup tosses her pen to the floor to hang with her notes. In one quick flourish, she brushes back her mess of curls, poised to strike.

As Lup throws down her pen, Barry knows it's  _ over. _ She'll tickle him within an inch of his life and he'll thank her for it, even as he's giving as good as he gets.

This is what he wants. Even if he's an idiot for it and it's a sham to her, he can still relish these moments of silliness and partnership and closeness. Even if it's not real, it's still happening--

It's some type of real, right?

All of this, as a concept, hits him right before she pounces like a tickly cat, and in an instant he's reaching for anything that might be ticklish--sides, no, gods,  _ back of the knee _ \--and trying in vain to wriggle out of range. "Gods, Lup,  _ Lup, _ mercy, ahhhaha,  _ mercy! _ " he giggles.

"Hah...  _ heh _ ... That's what I thought..." She's practically in his lap, purely for vantage, of course, suddenly  _ violently aware _ of both parties' states of undress. Lup sits back, hands held aloft in cession, but not making to climb entirely off of him. She smirks, her flush can  _ probably _ be attributed to laughter. Gods, if he keeps grabbing for her like that, looking at her like that...

A girl just might have to do something about it.

Gods, she's so hot. Mark down  _ being tickled until he begs for mercy _ in the horny column, Barry's  _ weak. _ She looks at him with that smirk, straddling him with those long legs, and he's about to lose damn near all his self-restraint. "Consider this a warning, Bluejeans." She laughs, finally convincing herself to clamber off of him. "You've seen merely a fraction of my capabilities. Lest ye try again..." Lup waggles her fingers menacingly, and scoops up her spellbook from the floor, stuffing papers under the cover. 

"I hate to be boring, but this old lady's probably headed for bed. Wanna catch some actual Z's first night on the new plane and all. You uhh... you're free to hang out, natch. My notes are your notes and all that." She offers the book, "Tea's to the right of the stove if that's what you're about."

"Noted," he gasps, still laughing a little. "Now I know what I'll be getting myself into." It's a disappointing feeling, her climbing off of him, but what she says next reminds him.

Ah yes. Bed.

"I probably should turn in, too. Heck, I need more sleep than you, no sense in me staying up later," he says. He's blushing, surely from their tickle fight. They'll just sleep, it's fine.

Unless...she doesn't want to just sleep. Gods, if only.

"That's really only true if I Trance and you  _ know it _ ." The only one that's got her beat on that front is  _ Merle _ , and she has no clue how he can sleep through what he does. You'd think the deaf one would miss the most alarms, but  _ no. _

It's an odd sort of thrill, to be followed to bed. Instinct tells her all kinds of nonsense-- a quirk of the brow, a swing of the hips-- Lup does her utmost to resist the temptation to outright seduce this boy.  _ It wouldn't be fair. They've got an act to put on, one that works best if they're friends. _ She hates how she wishes this game were to be played in their apartment too. 

As much as she wants to flop into bed, become one with the duvet and snuggle close in the night when she can hardly be held accountable, even bedtime is not so simple. Glasses come off on the nightstand, exchanged for a comb with the lofty hopes of making a plait of her war-torn curls. He's seen it all before, and Lup knows this, but in a place they call their own, there's a more intimate air. She revels in it, in the safety of her own mind.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I know,” he says good-humoredly.

They head into the bedroom, and Barry feels...nervous. Not bad nervous, just...he wishes he knew for sure she was comfortable, if not, there are  _ options _ . He’s gonna have to use  _ words _ about this, isn’t he?

“So, um,” he tries. “You know I’m kind of a cuddly sleeper, and that’s worked okay a night here and there, but, uh—I don’t wanna lock you into a full year of snuggling if you don’t want, so anyway, bedroll’s in the closet, couch is in the living room, the boys are across the hall, and I’ll sleep wherever you want and if we need to adjust just let me know, no worries. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some cozy stuff, but we’ve got options here, it’s not really anyone’s business but ours, you know?”

Ohh  _ no _ , he's worried about... what, making her uncomfortable? Has he not seen her tangled up with Taako, or Luce? Hell, even Mags, but that was sort of a universal constant, huh? Is he uncomfortable at the thought of a year spent sleeping side by side? She hopes not.

"Nah, don't be silly, it's totally fine. I've said it before and I'll say it again, cha'girl's a platonic cuddler. But I'll let you know if anything needs to change, okay? Promise." She offers a pinky and a soft sort of smile. "And same goes for you, natch. I do anything you don't dig? Just... let me know."

He links his pinky with hers. “Promise. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t wa—like, okay, not to be weird? You grabbing my hand out there was the biggest relief, I don’t—hmmm. I don’t have to pretend, to make it look like I like you. I figure we’ll look happiest if we just...are happy, with how it’s going, you know?” He blushes, pretty damn sure he did not remotely get a point across.

Lup laughs, stamping their thumbs together to seal the deal. "Yeah, glad I caught Taako grab Mags, I wouldn't have been that quick on the draw. It'd be a lot harder if we got stuck with strangers... Gods, I hope Luci's really alright." She sighs. No use worrying about it. She said she's fine, and they'll see her in the morning, and Lup'll have some girl talk with her and she'll be  _ fine _ . Anxious thoughts won't make it any truer. If only that's how magic worked. 

“Yeah.” The acknowledgement is soft, and the concern is shared. Barry pauses a second. “Anyhow, want me to braid your hair back? You know I’m good at it,” he says, with just a hint of playful arrogance.

She shakes out of that train of thought. "You don't mind?" Lup hands over her comb and digs a tie out of her bag. "Thanks. Sorry I can't exactly return the favour. Unless you're thinking of bringing the mullet back..." She laughs, tossing her hair to the back where he can reach.

“I don’t mind, always happy to play hairdresser,” he chuckles. “I don’t know that I’d go back to the mullet, though, everyone else here is married. No sense going around wrecking homes with that party in the back.”

He settles behind her on the bed and begins to comb out her hair, ends first, working his way up the strands until they lie smooth and shiny against her back. It takes time, but Barry’s patient. The curls are stubborn, sometimes, tangled up in themselves and each other, but with enough gentle reassurance they relax and loosen from the knots. No sense in rushing or pulling, just slow strokes.

He pulls the top layer together and starts braiding. His fingers skim her scalp lightly as he pulls in new strands, coaxing them into place until soon enough he’s wrapping the tie around the ends. She looks ready-- ready for bed or hard work or really anything the universe throws at her. She’s absolutely beautiful.

She snorts, "You'd make me  _ share _ my government-allotted husband? That's some nerve!" She plays it off jokingly, he's not actually,  _ properly _ hers. If things had panned out differently, if maybe they do in the future, is that something he'd want?

Barry's gentle, with his questions, with her hair, with everything. And after years of knowing his particular softness, it's easier to receive. It's second nature. He asks not because she needs help, but because he can give it. He's gentle because he's kind, not because she's weak. Some days that last one takes some reminding, but Lup's getting there.

Well. Barry’d be lying if he said that comment didn’t stir up a few things in him.  _ Her  _ ~~_ government-allotted _ ~~ _ husband. _ And she doesn’t want to  _ share _ him. That suits him fine. He doesn’t want her to share him either.

“Of course not,” he chuckles. “Don’t you remember, I told them all I’d keep you as my government-allotted wife as long as you’ll have me. The whole crew was there! Doubt that’ll stop folks from thirsting though, no, no, the mullet’s too high-risk,” he teases.

“How’s that?” he asks, passing her comb back.

She gives the braid a once over with her hand, "Perfect. One of these days you're gonna have to start charging, or Taako might be out of a job." She's only half kidding. Taako's good at the fancy intricate bits, that have been known to fall out over night. Barry's plaits are utilitarian, consistent. Sometimes that's what you need.

He watches her inspect the braid, pleased that she seems pleased. “Maybe there’s an opening on the job boards for hair braider—braidist? Braidspert?—we’ll have to check tomorrow, that way I can get my braiding fix without leaving a trail of broken hearts,” he jokes.

He sets his glasses next to hers on the nightstand and pulls back the covers. He crawls in underneath them.

Gods, he’d give years off his life to kiss her goodnight.

"Let them thirst, get your freedom of expression! They'd have to go through me anyhow, and I'd like to see them try." She chuckles, putting up her dukes for the goof. "No one's takin'  _ my _ Braidspert Husband. Let 'em look all they want." 

Lup burrows under the covers, still properly tucked in at the edges like a godsdamned hotel. They'll see how long that lasts. She goes to click the lamp off, but stops with her hand on the chain. "You uhh, you want the light on? Doesn't bother me either way." It'll just be a little easier to hide any too-content looks under cover of darkness, but she can manage.

Barry laughs, then pauses at her question. He looks to the window, then pulls back the plain curtain. Moonlight and the soft glow of a street lamp stream in, and Barry arranges the curtain so just a triangular patch of window is exposed. “Try it off?” he says.

The light clicks off, and huh, the moon's really bright here. That'll be nice. Maybe they'll get the chance to walk about at night, see what this city looks like under streetlights and darkness. Maybe there's a nightlife? Surely a couple must go on evenings out, date nights? It's mostly wishful thinking, and Lup knows it, but maybe there's enough there to convince him to take her out.

Barry considers. The sun will wake them in the morning, and the rhythm of Lup’s soft breathing will surely have him down for the count in no time. “This is okay,” he says, “does it work for you?”

Lup slips back under the covers, eyes turned to catch his words and the moonlight. "Works for me. Night, Bear." There's just enough light that maybe, just maybe, he can catch the smile behind her eyes. Some small part of her hopes he does.

Barry nestles down under the covers. The temptation to kiss her, to just pull her on top of him and let her do as she pleases, to lay her out bare, splayed across this whole bed, and use his mouth to make her moan is running up against the one insurmountable obstacle--does she want that? He doesn’t know.

If she ever said yes, the very second she said yes, he would. That’s not tonight, though. So for tonight he snuggles into their shared bed and tries to think of the ways he’ll let his feelings overflow into little delights for her tomorrow.

“Night, Lup. Sleep well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: I'll give these two the same advice I was given right before I got married: if you can make it through the first year of marriage? You've got a solid shot at the long haul 😉  
> SA: But this is *totally* different, its *fake* marriage, it's not like they have *feelings for each other* or anything! That'd be ridiculous!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, folks.

Morning comes as it always does, with the particular difference that is Lup's face buried in Barry's chest. Someone looking in might not even notice the elf half of the equation if not for the pointed ears poking out from the duvet. She wakes once, in the early hours of the morning, to find the comfortable weight of an arm around her waist, heavy and safe. In her half-sleeping mind, it's so easy to justify hooking her tail over his leg, letting her feet find his in the mess of blankets. 

Coffee can wait.

Barry blinks awake to find himself thoroughly tangled in warm, sleepy elf, with his hand— _ oh no, oh gods, his hand _ —resting comfortably on the small of Lup’s back— _ phew _ —and her head on his chest, radiating contentment. The sun streams in through the window where the curtain’s pulled back, lighting up the room, and calling them both to start the day.

They’re tangled together, all tied up in knots like her hair was last night. Barry isn’t keen to untangle this, though. If there weren’t briefings and jobs to find and an apartment to de-blandify he’d be all for just staying like this for the foreseeable future.

He does have to pee, though.

“Morning,” he yawns. “You sleep well?”

Lup blinks back the offending sunlight when he shifts, stretching with a little content sound. She's warm and snuggle-happy, and if only the world would just stop for a moment so she could live in this sleepy haze forever, she could maybe be alright with that. But there's work to be done and soft boys to give a break from her clingy ass. 

Still, she rolls over, taking the comforter with her until she's an elven burrito bastard at the other side of the bed. "Mmmh, five more minutes."

Barry snorts. "Okay, but that means I get the bathroom first," he teases. He sits up on the side of the bed and puts on his glasses.

"If you're not de-blanketed when I get back I'll bounce you out of bed, we gotta get dressed for breakfast with the crew," he promises with a fond smile. He stands and pads barefoot to the bathroom.

Lup mumbles a defiant “Can’t hear you”, waiting until Barry’s wandered out of the room to properly stand and stretch out. It's criminal how well she slept. She knows Trancing is important, really she does, but it's going to be hard to convince herself not to tangle up like that every night she's allowed. 

She plucks her glasses from the nightstand, digging around for some proper clothes. She's nearly dressed when she feels that familiar ring. "Yo, mornin' Luce. Yeah, yeah, breakfast's still on, lemme think..." She maps out the path from the Starblaster's landing site to their apartments, relaying the information while she slips on a bra and digs around for a shirt.

Barry takes a few minutes in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, giving his face a quick wash, and running a comb through his hair before heading back toward the bedroom. He smiles as he hears Lup moving around and talking to Lucretia. He waits a moment until she falls silent, then flickers the lights. "All clear? Bathroom's free," he announces, eyes closed  _ just in case. _ It's no big deal, potential nudity, but it also very much is if she's just in there starkers and he bumbles straight in. It's not up to him what she allows him to see.

"Is Luci on her way?"

Lup chuckles, looking up to find him flickin' the lights with his eyes shut. "I'm decent, oh my gods. Yeah, she's heading over soon." She slips a t-shirt over her head and brushes past him for the bathroom. 

Then her voice rings out between rooms. "Dude! I  _ knew _ it was you!" She wanders in, toothbrush in her mouth, finishing her thought with her hands, " _ Leaving the damn seat up all these years! Rude. _ " She rolls her eyes, snatching up her comb from by the bed.

Barry laughs sheepishly. He's been fake married less than 24 hours and he's already in trouble with his fake missus, and for such a normal, domestic reason. "Sorry," he chuckles. "I'll do better about it."

He pulls out a pair of jeans and a fresh shirt, adding socks and boxers to the little pile in his hands. He looks from them to her and back again. "Hmmm, you care at all where I change? It doesn't make a difference to me, it's just bodies, but," he shrugs.

" _ I don't mind, but," _ she points to the toothbrush. " _ I'll catch the show another time. _ " She laughs, heading for the bathroom with her comb in hand. 

There's a sharp noise-- toilet, meet seat--, then Lup gets to work on the rest of her to dos. She's long given up on the idea of makeup  _ every day _ , even if Taako somehow finds the energy, she still gets a good face washing and hair combing in. Nothing fancy, but she doesn't need fancy. Not today anyways. 

Barry smiles as he hears the toilet seat go down. He changes clothes, chucking the pajama bottoms into the hamper. All the way in. No need to cause another discussion so soon, he thinks to himself with a chuckle.

So, she'll catch the show another time, huh? The Barry Gets Naked show, the profoundly mundane and uncreative strip show that is him putting on fresh boxers in the morning. Alright. He wouldn't mind that at all, if she wanted to see it.

She comes back with a knock on the door, hand dramatically over her eyes. "Ready to head out?"

He turns at her knock and laughs again. "I'm ready," he says. "No need to worry about peeking, anyhow, it won't bother me." 

He hands her the keys after locking the door behind them. They'll need to separate them and each have a copy, but for now, "You wanna hang onto these?"

Lup pats her hips, ass. Shit. "No pockets. Though, come to think of it, I hear there's this wild new thing called  _ jeans? _ You hear of 'em? Loads of pockets in those bad boys." She smiles, a goofing, tongue-between-her- teeth thing, and knocks on her brother's door. 

Barry's eyes follow her hands and  _ oh _ \--she's got such a nice ass. What if he could just, give it a little pat, a little squeeze, maybe slip his hands under and lift her up and lean their foreheads against each other and then they kiss and it's all very--

Hmmm, not really the time? For this train of thought?

"Okay," he acquiesces. He shoves the keys in his pocket as they head into the apartment. Taako's really got the place looking nice, and smelling nice too. Like a home.

Lup takes one look at her brother’s new digs and rolls her eyes. _Fuck him for having applicable magic_.

The smell of coffee floats out to greet her, over a tufted velveteen couch and lavender walls. He even managed a proper stained-wood coffee table.  _ Bastard _ . 

"Hey Dingus, you gonna come play HGTV with ours too?" She waves to a rather bed-headed Magnus, and goes to steal the last of the Good Coffee.

"Pssssshhh, and what,  _ work? _ With my delicate constitution, are you kidding?" Taako answers. He snorts. "'Course I'll help, but you better decide on something and  _ stick _ with it."

Barry heads for the kitchen to see what's afoot. "Are Cap and Merle on their way, do you know?"

Speak of the devils, there’s another set of knocks on the door. Mags goes to let them in, and Lup brings the coffee pot to the table. “Stick with it? What happened to ‘your drapes must change with the seasons’, brobro?” 

“When I don’t have to  _ make them all _ , sure!” He nods behind her to the group entering, Lucretia among them. “ _ Want me to do your doorbell too?”,  _ his hands tack on.

“ _ Please and thank you, _ ” she gives him a peck on the cheek, which he dramatically wipes away. 

“Mornin’ Luce! So. Tell cha’girl  _ everything _ .” Lup props her head in her hands, “I expect all the juicy deets.”

Lucretia grins, bashful and excited in equal measure. She sits down at the table and sets her journal down. “Trish was right, it really is clever. I saw Teddy, and first she sort of interviewed me, like basic compatibility stuff; sexuality, hobbies, personality, goals, all that. She put together a sheet and attached a picture, and then we combed through a bunch of sheets together and set up test matches. They’re basically just dates? I’ve got  _ five  _ of them, some later today and some tomorrow. It’s not quite as rigid as I expected; she didn’t just go in the back and bring out a girl and marry us on the spot. It’s a little more like they’ve just taken some of the tricky parts out of dating, like meeting and some of the unknowns,” she explains.

It’s easier to believe Lucretia’s excitement when it sits palpable in front of her. Lup grins, sipping coffee and interjecting when she can. “ _ Five? _ Dang, Luce, you’re a hot commodity!" She gives Lucretia's shoulder a light punch. "I take it the experience was...  _ culturally enlightening _ ." She waggles her brows. "Got any star contenders? A model? A politician? Oooh!  _ A librarian! _ "

Lucretia opens up her journal to a page, orderly dates and times and notes. “So later today I’m meeting Sam, she breeds pet rabbits, then Morgan, she teaches what seems to be roughly middle school, then tonight Olivia, she’s a sort of local judge. Then tomorrow I’m meeting Celine, she’s...something in government, I don’t know exactly what, but I figure maybe she’ll tell me, and Jessica,” Lucretia smirks. “A chef.”

She scoffs outright, pressing Lucretia's notebook to the table. "You wouldn't  _ dare _ ." 

“What can I say? Chef is a great profession, but the ones I already know are  _ married, _ ” Lucretia teases. She quirks an eyebrow at Lup, then giggles.

Lup rolls her eyes, "Yeah, well, shoulda been quicker on the uptake. Unless of course you wanna go tell Teddy you're joinin' the Tacco-Bluejeans household." She waggles her eyebrows right back. "Wonder what they'd say here about a throuple."

"Incoming, Ladies!" Merle brings over a heaping plate of breakfast sausages and bacon, and Taako's not far behind with crepes. 

Lup leans in conspiratorially, as more members of the crew begin to join the table. "Go for the lawyer.  _ Totally _ your type." She dips her finger in the whipped cream as Davenport passes by with it. Taako probably got Mags to whip it, poor kid. Very good though. 

"You swear you'd tell me if you thought something funky was going down, yeah? It's a little... great? Here? Hard to believe, y'know?"

“I’ll tell you, I swear,” she says as Barry scoots behind her juggling several different jam jars. “It does seem so nice, though, I kind of hope it is. It feels fair, after so much awful stuff, that we should get someplace nice.”

Lucretia smirks again as she starts to load up her plate. “Speaking of my chef friends, how’s married life treating you?” she teases.

Lup stacks a couple crepes on her plate, throwing a quick  _ persimmon, please! _ to Barry. "Far as married life? Turns out a decade and a half of livin' together prepares ya pretty well for the real thing. Right,  _ babe _ ?" She laughs, poking her fork at Taako. "How's  _ your _ honeymoon, bro?"

Barry blushes as he passes over the jam. She seems happy, and he definitely is.  _ The real thing. _ Gods, is there hope that it could be the real thing? Is it—is  _ this _ what the real thing is? For sure it’s love, for him anyway, and yeah, there are a few things that he wants that haven’t happened yet, but maybe...maybe it’s just early yet. He beams. “It sure does,” he agrees, “no complaints here, that’s for sure.”

Taako snorts a laugh as he shoos Lup’s fork away. “It’s going real well,” he says, looking smug. “Got my nice apartment, snagged me a beefy boy, Taako’s all set, baby.”

Lup snorts, and skewers some bacon. Luckily in this house, talking with your mouth full isn't a problem. " _ What about y'all, Captain?" _

Davenport makes to respond, but Merle beats him to it. "He treats me well. We're thinking of renewing our vows come Spring."

There's a beat of silence. 

Then the twins break out in  _ uproarious laughter _ . Davenport just sips his coffee, knowing full well he's lost control of this narrative for the time being. Lup tries to catch her breath, " _ Can I-- Merle, can I come dress shopping?" _

Barry laughs too. “Congratulations,” he gasps, “be sure to send us an invite!” He loads a couple more sausages onto his plate, then dips one into some blackberry jam that had fallen from his crepe to his plate and takes a bite.

“What are you all planning today? Lup and I talked about checking out the job boards,” he says as the laughter settles.

“Ooh,” says Magnus, “wonder what kinda jobs they’ve got here anyhow?”

Lup rolls up a monstrosity of a crepe; jam and whipped cream and sausage all in one. Magnificent. 

This is good. Gods, in the weirdest way, it's like being back in training; everyone piling into an apartment-- usually the twins'-- sharing far too much breakfast food and a bit of gentle ribbing. There's a different air now, something that comes with being each other's souvenirs of home, nearly half of Lucretia's  _ life _ spent together. They're  _ family _ now. As much as Lup and Taako had planned never to know that feeling, not really. But they do; she sees it in the way he snatches a piece of bacon from Magnus's plate when he's not looking, in the simple offering of a mug-- no questions, just a bit of whipped cream on top because they have it and Luci has a sweet tooth some days. This is good. It's home. 

"Wonder if these guys have inter-planar travel yet? It'd be nice to do our actual jobs, or at least see what their version of our jobs entail. Otherwise, I hear Barry's planning to take the salon market by storm." She smiles, tone not  _ entirely _ goofing.

Barry laughs at that. "I'm not really--it was only a braid! Hopefully they'll have stuff that we're good at," he says. "Who knows, maybe they're more advanced than us in some spots and we'll have to catch up."

"No, wait, hold up, a  _ braid? _ Lulu, has the erstwhile mullet man been taking  _ my job? _ " Taako says in mock offense.

Lup shrugs, feigning her best attempt at nonchalance. "You were on your  _ honeymoon _ , Ko! I had no other choice! Want me to bust down those so  _ sacred _ of doors for a  _ plait _ ? Nah, nah, nah." She plays it off with a sip of coffee. "With great mullet comes great braiding abilities, my guy." She shoots Barry a wink, feeling for all the world like things are going sort of alright. If bickering over who gets braiding privileges is the worst of their worries this plain? Sign Lup the fuck up.

Barry chuckles. “Maybe I’ll grow it back out, my wife seemed like she’d be into it,” he winks back. “We can form a little circle like a slumber party, just all hairdos all the time.”

Taako laughs. “Oh,  _ gods, _ ” he gasps. “Lu, come get your man.”

Barry smirks and waves his fork, sausage stuck on the end. “It was a strong aesthetic choice for a certain time in my life,” he says airily. “I’ll have you know I commanded a  _ lot _ of attention.”

"Bet that's not all it commanded, ey Barry?" Merle waggles his eyes in an  _ incredibly distressing manner _ . 

"What the  _ fuck _ does that  _ even mean _ ??  _ Merle??? _ " Lup cackles, and she can feel tears springing at the corners of her eyes. This is right, the only tears this plane has gotten from them are of laughter. Hopefully that's a trajectory they can maintain. 

Merle just shrugs, as if it needs no explanation. "I said what I said."

Barry laughs hard at that. “A gentleman never tells,” he finally manages. “But I’m not in the habit of disappointing folks, I’ll tell you that—“

“Nooo! Not at my table, Barold, not in my  _ home! _ ” Taako wheezes in mock horror between gales of laughter. “Lulu, rein in your boy!”

Lup tries and fails to catch her breath, wiping away tears.  _ "Barry! Not at the table! _ " She signs a one handed version of his name-- a claw-shaped  _ bear _ turned  _ y _ . They all had a series of nicknames, of course, but most of those were kept secret for purposes of Twin Gossip. 

Lucretia giggles. “Where are the pictures, Barry? Surely there must be pictures!”

Lup composes herself, and Taako continues to cackle. "Baroooold! Pics or it didn't happen."

"Pics or you gotta grow it out  _ again _ . For science." Lup snorts, laugh settled enough for a drink of coffee.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Okay, there is a picture,” Barry admits, gathering himself. “I still had it during the Candlenights party right before I started my doctorate, I’m sure it’s in the album I brought, I’ll just have to dig through a little.”

Maybe he and Lup could find it together. Maybe they could curl up on the couch and look through until they found the picture and then have everyone over for dinner and Fae Blitz, like proper normal neighbors. It’s probably best that they do some social stuff like that anyway, good for appearances, but more importantly good for them and well earned. He grins.

“If you can’t find it and she makes you grow it out, I’ll do it too in solidarity,” Magnus offers.

“Look what you’ve done—Mags, do not make me fake divorce you,” Taako warns, “Your head is not shaped right for a mullet  _ whatsoever. _ ”

Magnus looks  _ downright offended _ , which just sends Lup into another cackling fit. Gods, these boys are gonna have whipped cream coming out her nose at this rate. 

Davenport clears his throat, in a way which has the whole crew looking to him with expectations of import. "If one of our crew must sport a mullet, I will be forced to make it regulation."

Taako screams.

They carry on like that, chatter and jokes and gentle roasts, until the crepes are gone and bellies are full. They clear away the dishes, and soon enough the crew is ready to go about their day.

Barry takes Lup's hand as they walk out the door. "Time to go check the job boards, keep us posted on anything you learn, you especially, Luce," he says. Gods, her hand is warm and nice. "Shall we, babe?" he says, eyes and nose crinkling with a playful smile.

"We shall." She takes his hand with a little, absentminded squeeze, and waves their crew goodbye. There's promises of breakfast tomorrow, which Lup agrees to host (if a bit later in the morning). It’s been a while since they’ve had a good brunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: See, folks, Lucretia is *just fine,* living her best life! Hot take: I'd give Sam, the soft butch rabbit breeder a shot ;-)  
> SA: Will Blups talk about their feelings? Who will Luci end up with?? Will ST and I ever stop making each other cry??? Find out next time on: Cycle 17!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Commercial announcer voice] This lovely picnic for two is brought to you by Open and Honest Communication.
> 
> Open and Honest Communication: Try it, Cowards! It'll Change Your Life.

A number of days come and go in increasingly comfortable normalcy. The job boards boast a number of interesting calls, mostly odd jobs that serve as little more than a bit of adventure and a means of keeping food on various tables. Then the Light falls.

And the city sends search parties out, one of which is able to retrieve it.

The city offers for the crew to conduct research in their labs, the only caveat being that such research be shared. The Light, after some explaining of circumstances, is understood to be a temporary feature of this world, so focus seems to be placed on utilising it whilst it’s there. Barry and Lup (and occasionally Taako, when he's not preoccupied bringing extraplanar culinary delights to the locals) are hired on as researchers.

Barry is having the time of his life. Studying the Light in the city's labs (they have such  _ big _ labs! Better equipped than Barry could've dreamt), going home each night for dinner with Lup and hanging out with the crew at one apartment or another, then cuddling up snug and sleeping like a rock next to Lup before doing it all again. All seems well, and as it starts to feel like they can finally relax, just a bit, it seems some celebration is in order. Like just maybe, it’s the perfect time to pack up a romantic little picnic for two and trot off arm in arm for the lush park just east of the town center. "Where's a good spot, d'you think?" Barry asks as they arrive.

"Mmmm, under a tree y'think?” Lup can’t help the spring in her step, “Not that I wanna climb one or anything, no sir." She chuckles, basket swinging just slightly in her hand. It feels a little ridiculous to plan a picnic, a bit unearned. But they've come from a well-packed week of research and testing, and this pretty little sundress Lup had found in the city was definitely not suited for the lab, so really it is their duty to have a proper date. All the better to keep up appearances, of course. 

They set out a blanket and basket, and Lup kicks off her sandals to properly flop down. This is what their lives should have become. Regular work at a regular job, regular nights with friends and dates with her regular husband at a regular little park. No Hunger to outrun or hostilities to fend off. They still see the crew most days; their mission isn't  _ forgotten _ . They've just learned to indulge in a little wilful ignorance from time to time. At least, Lup has. 

"You gonna finish that story, babe? Or ya gonna keep me guessin'? Come on, I told you  _ my _ first kiss!" Lup kicks her feet up, propping her head on her hands with just the most smug puppy-eyes, if there were such a thing.

Barry settles down on the blanket, helping set out the food. “Okay, okay,” he says. “It was a girl in my math class, Becca, and at fourteen I had no space to whine but she was  _ not _ great at it,” he laughs. “She, uh, someone told her about  _ tongue, _ evidently, without mentioning how much? Surprised the heck out of me, anyway. She actually kinda cornered me, a little, I’d wanted to for a while but I was shy so she finally took the lead.”

Lup guffaws, as if the thought of a teen being subpar at smoochin' was hardly a possibility. "I think you're allowed to whine, but even kids can  _ use their words _ ." She jests, of course. Her first was definitely lacking in the same department.

“My turn for a question though,” Barry says with a sly little grin. “And folks might ask us this so we gotta know; how’d we get together? They know we don’t come from here, so it probably wasn’t the matchmaker, huh?”

She rolls onto her back, plucking a fruit from their basket and eyeing it as she thinks. "I mean... the easiest lie is the truth? We met through work, doing research, got put on the same mission? There's only the addition of y'know, getting married? How long have we been  _ so madly in love? _ " She smirks.

Barry nods, then narrowly avoids choking. How long? They could make something up, or go for the easy truth—eleven years, this month.

You know what? Fuck it, that’s a good timeframe given their ages, actually, and it’s not a round number that sounds fake or anything. It also accounts for them being so comfortable with each other. It’s perfect. Maybe just a tweak or two.

“Let’s say our eleventh anniversary is in...seven months. Even if we don’t go into us resetting that just looks like we got married in my what, early 30s? That seems good, lots of humans get married in their 30s.” Barry needs to stop justifying it before it looks funny. He blushes slightly.

Lup smiles, nods. Yeah, that feels about right. “I’d have been barely two hundred. Without the cycles, two-oh-three? Just to get our stories straight. Gods, that’s some weird maths.” She laughs. It’s been a lot of half-counted birthdays over the past decade. 

“You do still... How old are you? Like, do you count the cycles, or?” She leans up on one elbow, “I’m never really sure if I should.” What’s a few years when you’ve got a few hundred? Added to the fact that— if the humans were any indication— they weren’t actually aging in any recordable way? It doesn’t feel right to count the years towards their tally, but it still feels wrong not to.

"Hmmm, I guess, hmmm. I don't know, like I still  _ look _ forty-three? But we did live all that time, so I guess those years are ours, so I'll be fifty-n--oh gods, no, I'm almost  _ sixty, _ Lup next year's  _ sixty! _ " he dissolves into laughter. "Your husband's an old man, we'll have to start checking out rest homes!" He supposes the years should be counted; after all, they were important. They  _ happened, _ and they  _ hurt _ and felt  _ good _ and they  _ were. _ They mattered, and what the crew did in them mattered.

"Hey, we've been over this!" She swats his arm in a fit of giggles. "If you're an old man, what's that make  _ me _ ? I'm... fuck... two hundred.. eighteen? Nineteen come Candlenights?  _ You _ can't be old Bear, cause then  _ I'm old _ , and that dog don't hunt." She Mage Hands a beer from the basket, knocking the cap off with a spectral flick. 

"Pssshhh, you're not old, you're like...timeless. Yeah, besides, I'd never ask a lady her age, that's a real good way to die. I'm still pretty sure my mom was fudging her birthday candles, I genuinely don't know," he chuckles."You know what though? Old couples are  _ cute, _ I had these older neighbors growing up, married for like forty, forty-five years? They were always pranking each other, and they had the subtlest little dirty jokes. Hell, I'll be old if I can make some kid retch a little by putting the moves on my spouse, worth it," he says.

Lup cackles, imagining the amount of PDA necessary to phase people  _ here _ . Then she blushes, at the realisation that maybe she wouldn't mind being a little raunchy. For the goofs, of course.

"Okay, same question though: when did  _ you _ catch feelings _? _ " he asks with a little smirk.

Well, there's only one way to answer that... If they're just stretching the truth a bit anyways. Easier to keep her story straight and all that. Hopefully he'll take it at face meet-cute value. "First time I met ya, babe. You walked in there with an ass that just wouldn't quit, and I've been smitten ever since." She winks over a sip.

Barry pauses. "Damn that's good, really loving the ass, huh? I'll have to remember that, hell yeah! Your turn for a question?"

"What can I say, love at first sight. Hmmm..." Lup bites her tongue, reaching for nonchalance. "Okay, so we've got the time line, that all checks out. How about... How'd ya propose? Or did I do it? Weave me a word picture, Bear. Make me swoon." She sits, leaning up against the tree to sip her drink. In another life...

"Hmmm. I proposed; I thought about waiting for you to but I got so excited and really wanted to see the look on your face. I talked to Taako first, but didn't ask his permission because you'd probably hate that, I just wanted him to make sure you got to the spot I picked out, ‘cause I'd set out a ton of flowers there. I got really nervous and had to try twice, but you said yes anyway," Barry answers.

Lup actually puts a hand to her cheek, eyes going all kinds of soft. " _ Biiitch _ !" She can totally see him doing something grand and adorable like that, too. And her saying yes. Even if he had to ask twice. Nerves just mean that you mean it. 

The faux proposal in the apartment notwithstanding, Barry wishes it were true. Filling a space with flowers and proposing, and Lup saying yes, was the best thing he could think of, something he scarcely dared hope for. Maybe, though, if things shook out so they were safe, someday.

"What about the wedding? How many people? What was our aesthetic? What traditions did we keep and what did we chuck?" he asks.

"It was a little thing, intimate really.  _ Shocking, _ I know. Hmm... It was all flowers, the whole thing, gotta tie in that choice proposal. I was  _ radiant _ , natch. Your ass continued not to quit. Taako cried. We  _ deffo _ honeymooned someplace corny, but it was cute." Okay, she's getting a little ahead of herself. But it's so nice to imagine a world where all of that might have happened. One where they'd seen less tragedy. 

No, Barry was right. These years are important, have shaped them, have  _ mattered _ . Still, it might be nice to settle down someday. 

"Okay, okay, okay, I've got a question. And there  _ is _ a right answer." She settles her bottle between her legs, tracing the top with a finger. "You proposed with flowers. Which ones are my favourite?" She raises a brow. "Better have our stories straight, right?"

Barry chuckles. This is a test, oh  _ boy. _ "I think, hmmm. Ohhh, wait, I know this one. The one year we landed next to the lilies of the valley, yup, that's it, final answer," he says. He sips his drink.

"I.. yeah, actually. Got it in one." She's not blushing, not at all, no sir.

"It was a beautiful proposal and a beautiful wedding. But now, fair's fair, what's my favorite flower?" He waggles his eyebrows.

"Yours is...  _ fuck _ I know this, whats the word... the little purple ones? Il--illu--- _ iris! _ Irises. Right?"

Barry  _ is _ blushing, deep red. She  _ remembered, _ he can't remember ever mentioning that more than once. "Yeah," he says, "I've always got a soft spot for 'em."

Lup’s grinning properly, wracking her mind for little things they might need to know. Or want to know, just for... science. "If I have to order you a drink, what's your go-to? And I refuse to pay money for a Shitty Frat Beer, so don't even try me."

He considers the question. "I won't turn down a beer if offered, but usually bourbon or a gin and tonic. How about you, what's your go-to?"

Seems her boy's got impeccable drink choice, shockingly. Not many opportunities to play mixologist on the ship, but while they've got what seems to be some downtime, they might have that excuse. "Ohh, G'n'T all the way. With that good good elderflower tonic if they've got it? Makes a  _ world _ of difference, I promise. Or-- or? Fernet ‘n whiskey, if you’re trying to get laid,” she winks. 

Barry grins mischievously. “Definitely, definitely something we should know about each other,” he says. Oh dear gods, such powerful knowledge, and how she just loosens his lips! “Same as how you never see me order vodka cranberry at a work function.” He winks. Weakness for weakness, but they can hold each others’ weaknesses safely.

Maybe they could kick back together with a couple G’n’Ts and relax some evening, that would be wonderful. Maybe there’s a bar here that makes good ones, and they could go out on a date night there, too. Maybe they don’t have to stick to gin and tonic? He likes the sound of that.

“Hmmm... Alright, bit of a serious shift, if I may? We've been married a decade-- people are gonna ask. Thoughts on kids? Or are we more a… never-ending-string-of-rescue-cats sorta couple?"

Hmmm. Kids. “Kids...I meant we’ve both been really busy with our careers so the timing’s been bad and I’m kinda...up in the air? I’d wanna be sure, that’s a whole person, you know? But I’m not opposed to the idea, or even fostering down the line or something. Cats I’m also good with,” he grins. “How about you?”

A diplomatic answer. And not too far off of her own. "Yeah, that is absolutely a whole person. Exactly. I think I'd want to, at some point, but I'd have to be like. One hundred percent certain I'd be a decent parent? Like, I'm not gonna be part of the reason a kid has a bad go of it, y'know?" Gods, but the thought of a cozy little dinner table with three, maybe four places set? It has her smiling softly. 

"Fostering, totally, same there. Cats,  _ natch _ . Dogs? Like a big ol slobbery thing? Yeah. Ko'd lose his  _ mind _ , but they're  _ so cute _ ."

She gets it. Barry smiles. “Yeah, like for sure we’d be fine if a kid just...showed up, not that that’s how it works, most of the time, but I’d wanna give them better than  _ adequate, _ you know. For what it’s worth though, I think you’d kick ass at working through adolescent drama. Could you imagine? But for the moment, gods what about like a beagle mix even? A friendly pup,” he says.

"Awww  _ babe _ ," That genuinely has her smile going soft. He thinks she'd be a good mom? The thought does all kinds of gross soft things to her heart. "Ohh  _ noooo _ it'd be so tiny? And floppy? Gods, I'd die." Of cuteness, but still. 

The idea of kids, and a dog, maybe cats, in that house with the birdhouse mailbox and the irises and lilies of the valley in the yard and a big tree with a tire swing comes back around. Barry can imagine ‘one more swing, and then time for dinner,’ and puzzling through parts of speech and bleary eyes and excited squeals at dawn during Candlenights. Gods, that sounds perfect.

“Okay, also important-- if you had to pick: city, suburbs, or country? Obviously right now we’re in the city, but long-term?” he asks.

She has to think on that one. If she  _ had _ to pick? She doesn't know if she could. "Not suburbs. All those cookie-cutter houses? No way. Too far from anything fun in a city and not even the consolation of nice scenery. Hard pass. I dunno, probably city? I guess? But there's definitely something to be said about being out in nature and having all that room. Okay, yeah, I think if kids were going to happen? Country. You?"

“I also like country, but not too far out, maybe outskirts of a small town, not too far from a major city. Got all your basics close and you can still get to fun stuff on the weekends, that kind of thing. You’re right about the suburbs though, gotta have more personality than that,” he says.

The lawn in his mind’s eye expands, stretching out along a long driveway to a county road, with a small barn out back for the goat—okay, there’s a goat now, in his imagination, with a nice little fence for both of the goats—alright, there are two now, apparently—to keep them from wandering off. He grins. “We could have more animals and room for the kids to run, too, out there. Your turn, your turn, I love this, we’re figuring it out,” he says excitedly, taking another sip.

"Exactly, exactly." Lup finishes her drink, settling the empty bottle next to the basket. More animals, yeah she could get behind that. Plenty of room for the kids, that's a given. "Maybe a treehouse, too? It's only right." 

They're already talking fake plans for the future, getting their adorable stories straight. What would it hurt to play into the image a bit? If only for plausible deniability, of course. She kicks her feet into the grass, settling her head in Barry's lap. The picture of a romantic little picnic. 

"Alright, I've already answered this, so: When did you know I was  _ the one?" _ She sticks her tongue out at him, squinting against the sun.

Oh.  _ Oh, _ they’re gonna do this one with her head in his lap, oh  _ boy. _ “I—“ he hesitates. He licks his lips and tries again.

“It was one time when I was really overwhelmed and a ton of shit was going on and you didn’t try to fix it or wave it away, you just settled me down and reminded me that some stuff in life was still beautiful. And don’t get it twisted, I had a crush on you from the jump, never could resist a cute nose like that, or a brain like that either, but that’s when I knew,” he finishes. Okay, so that was lightly edited. It was for an answer to give to strangers, no need to dig into things too deep. But it’s still feeling a bit like honesty hour. He pushes a stray lock of her hair back. There they are, the perfect couple on a picnic. How sweet.

It's  _ severely _ domestic, laying in the grass, his hand brushing her cheek. As much as she'd like to, Lup can't lie to herself enough to convince her that she doesn't love the attention. There's more to it than that, but she can think about exactly what that means later. For now, she can take what she's been given. 

"Aww..." She says it jokingly, but she remembers a conversation like that. An awful night on one of the darker days they'd seen. She'd done what anyone would've, right? And Barry finds a way to make it beautiful. "You're a sap. Your turn."

Barry chuckles. “As though you’re not a sap too? C’mon, you’re a sweetheart. A sweet old lady,” he teases.

Lup crinkles her nose at the old lady comment, but lets it slide. It's true, after all.

He takes another sip of his drink, mulling over his next question. “Okay, here’s one, what was our worst fight and how’d we work it out? If it’s been a decade, surely we’ve had a doozy or two, right?”

"Oof, absolutely. Hmmm..." What  _ have _ they fought over? "Probably not something that would've been like. Big on its own? Hmm, okay, alright. So it started as a forgotten date, honest enough. But then--  _ ooooh but then _ " She chuckles, "It ended in a much needed discussion on communicating and being honest. We were both very prideful." She smirks, "Didn't want to admit we were upset."

Barry places a dramatic hand over his heart and gasps. "Too prideful to admit I'm upset? I can't believe you'd call me out like this!" he says. "That does sound about right though, just a small thing blown out of proportion by bad habits that needed work, yeah. Nothing world ending, just a learning curve, I guess."

That is true of them both, though, she's absolutely hit the nail on the head. That'll be something to think about this year, living together, but really also every year. Even if they never move beyond friendship, they still deserve honesty and communication. It's slightly terrifying, but Barry thinks they can probably handle it. "Okay, your turn, whatcha got?"

Okay, alright, the next question that jumped into her mind might be crossing a bit of a professional boundary, but to be fair all of this was. And speaking of communication, he could just as easily tell her if she's overstepping. They're lovingly married adults, after all. 

"Alright, anyone serious before me? Like, were you ever engaged, married, whatever, before we got together? Obviously, like, some secrets are your own, but..." Lup keeps her eyes trained on the other park-goers, the single sun casting such strange and pretty shadows over everything.

Barry thinks a second. That’s really a question of definition, he supposes. “Never married or engaged, as for serious...I guess I’ve not really tried, hmmm. Like there’s hookups, and there’s long-term even if it doesn’t actually last that long, and then there’s kind of in between those-- I’ve never done in between really. I kinda always went in like it would be long-term and that’s maybe why some of them lasted like six weeks, you know, just mismatched? But never anyone I thought was ‘the one’, at least not at the point we got to,” he says. “You? If you wanna say, anyhow, you don’t have to.”

"No, yeah, I.. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't willing to answer."  _ Never? _ So the rumours were true then. But he doesn't sound proud of it, not really. Maybe that's just what he's into, then. Sure can weave a pretty good story though. 

She sorts through in her head, which she'd consider getting serious. There's not  _ terribly _ many, but at least half? "A few. Never married, not... technically ever engaged. A few pretty serious partners though, yeah. Mostly guys, a few not. Handful of years most." She shrugs against his knee, "Couple-a flings, natch, but... never anyone like you, babe." She chuckles, shifting a bit to face him. It's so innocent, like school kids trading secrets. She loves every bit of it. "What's your favourite season? Or... holiday, or whatever? Time of year."

Barry nods. That's unsurprising, Lup is smart and attractive and a good person, of course she's had some serious partners. He hopes they treated her well. "Awww, I'm flattered," he teases.

He wants to be her next one, but that remains to be seen.

"Favorite time of year, hmmm, I'd say the beginning part of fall? Right as it starts to get chillier, I'd always get excited because it was less sweaty and school started up again. It always seemed more like getting ready for a new year than like an old year on its last legs, you know? Plus, and this is the big thing: apple cider. How about yours?"

"Ahh, yeah, okay cider is definitely worth it." She laughs. She can definitely recall many a year picking pumpkins and watching leaves change and fall. No doubt it's beautiful. Lup can see why he'd be right at home there, all big knit sweater and foggy breath. It suits him. 

"I see the appeal of fall, genuinely. Only positive reviews here. How _ ever _ . Allow me to raise you the first sound of birds in spring, after a looooong, endless cover of snow. That shit  _ slaps _ ." She makes a dramatic chef-kiss sign that dissolves into giggles in Barry's lap.

Barry giggles too. "That fits-- can I tell you? That fits you like a  _ glove, _ " he says. It does. Signs of new life crawling its way out of dormancy, and the sort of excitement and hope the first birdsong brings, that's Lup all over.

He pauses a second before his next question, taking a long sip of his drink. "Okay, here's one, although I'm pretty sure people will form their own opinions, too: who 'wears the pants', as they say, or are we straight down the middle, 50/50 always?" he asks, lifting his hands to make the air quotes. He smirks a little. "And before you get diplomatic, I'm a big boy, I can handle the truth," he chuckles.

"Ohh  _ screw _ diplomacy; you may wear the jeans, but cha'girl's in charge. Absolutely." She rolls her eyes; as if that question even warrants a response.

Barry laughs. " _ Thank _ you, we're on the same page, absolutely," he says.

"Ooooh okay, here's a juicy one.  _ Least  _ favourite thing about me. I won't get offended, swear on my life. If you can  _ possibly _ come up with something, I'll wait." She winks, settling a hand under her cheek.

Barry knows the answer to this one instantly. "You're not one- _ tenth _ as kind to yourself as you deserve. You always drive yourself so hard; it's not that you  _ need _ someone to care for you and do soft things for you and share the load so you can take a break but you  _ deserve _ it, just because it feels good," he says. "We all know you're a powerhouse, but you can have some indulgence, too."

Oh.  _ Ohh _ . She was expecting something along the lines of  _ Doesn't know how loud she's speaking sometimes _ or  _ Serial Shirt Stealer _ , both of which are incredibly true. Lup rolls her eyes, sitting up from his lap with a façade of stretching. "Alright, okay, I think that's enough 20 questions. We should uhh, probably head back if we still want to make movie night at Ko and Mag's."

"Okay. You're right, we probably should," Barry agrees.

Well. He's gone and done it, apparently, put his foot in his mouth. It's a familiar feeling, but in his defense, she promised she wouldn't be offended, and he was honest. He doesn't really think that's anything he should apologize for, but the urge to apologize and take the L even if that's unfair is  _ strong. _

_ A powerhouse... _ It's fair, Lup won't deny that. She's kicked her fair amount of ass, taken her share of names. But indulgence? Logically, yeah, they all deserve it. But indulgence to her  _ is _ that drive sometimes. Doing because she can and she should, not because she has to to survive. That can be enough. Right? 

She slips her shoes back on, tucking their empty bottles and snacks away. She doesn't need more. ‘Cause indulgence means having to let herself want; taking a break means not being  _ prepared _ . If the most capable version of herself is working and doing, isn't maintaining that a kindness to herself?

Barry helps gather up the leavings of the picnic, then stands and folds the blanket. He tentatively reaches for her hand; after all, they're having a cute date, or at least performing one. He supposes sometimes dates end in tension and misunderstanding too, though. "All good?" he asks, waiting to actually take her hand until she gives him some indication that's alright.

Lup takes his arm, a hand at his elbow in the same way he held hers on some darker nights. She gives a little squeeze, "All good. Promise."

Barry is cautiously optimistic as they start back. She says it's all good, he's gonna have to trust that. He can do that, in part of his mind.

There's just that other part that, even though she's not done anything that seems actually threatening, feels a threat to the security of their friendship, and, spiraling out from that, literally  _ everything  _ else in known and unknown universes _ , _ naturally.

She can feel his uncertainty as they walk, keeping them both less chatty than they might otherwise be. Was this not the cause of their fake fight-- A lack of communication? Hell, it'd sparked a few actual tiffs along the years. She just. Doesn't know what to say. 

But she can try. They owe each other that much. "Hey, I'm... sorry? I'm not upset, I told you to be honest. I just..." Lup takes a breath, struggling to even think of the words to say she doesn't have them. "I don't know what to say to that? I don't think that you're right. But... I don't  _ really _ think you're wrong either. I... I dunno. Just made me think. But I'm not mad. So.." She nudges him a bit. It's not perfect, not even really  _ good _ . But it's a try.

Lup’s words help that other, panicky part of Barry’s brain begin to stand down, too. "That's...it's okay. I just...that's what I see, but it also seems scary to do so I get it. If anyone could do something scary it'd be you, though," he chuckles, then pauses. "If you want, you can answer the same question, and we can both not be offended together? Don't have to, though."

"Yeah, okay..." Her words echo earlier, but softer, a little more honesty tucked in there. "Scary's not it, though. You know me, scary is... that's nothin'." Well, not nothing, but compared to some things? Lup would take scary every day. "Honest? It's  _ scarier _ to chill. 'Least I think so." She shrugs. It'd be wrong to say she hasn't thought about it before, been called out on it. But admitting it to someone feels more intimate, somehow. It also feels... good.

Barry nods encouragingly. "I get it. I really do, promise."

"But. You want me to drag you?" She grins, leaning against his arm. "Thing is, I could say sorta the same to you? Similar, anyways. You're... one of the kindest people I know, Barry, honest to gods. But I think you could be a little kinder to  _ you _ ."

"I--hmmm. Okay, I get what you're saying, in my mind, with your words, but can I ask you? What if kindness to others is all I'm good for and I  _ stop _ for even a  _ minute? _ 'Cause I got distracted being kind to me. Why even bother with me? That's maybe not 100% true, but it is what feels true, you know?"

He pauses and shakes his head. "You know sometimes I think it'd be ideal for me to be around many other me's and then just buddy up and care for each other," he says with a laugh. "Then at least everyone's got  _ someone _ looking out for them, even if it's not themself."

Lup has to bite back her initial urge to roll her eyes. Yeah, what he's saying is kinda bullshit. But she's thought some pretty bullshit things too. And the worst part is that she gets where he's coming from. 

"Okay. I hear you. Well," she chuckles, "y'know.  _ But _ . But? You are the most important person in your life. Who gets you out of bed in the morning, Barry? Gets ya fed and does your good good science? But also like. Who... Who... You're the reason you see pretty things or make things or even dance  _ super _ off beat." Lup watches people pass, going about days untouched by the two of them. And still just as important. "Other people are gonna keep getting on without you. But  _ you _ won't. Does that track?"

How hard can it be to tell someone they're important? But also... not too important that they can't stop and  _ breathe _ ? It's not something Lup's brain is wired to want; she likes to do good and be good, and that includes to herself. Even if that doesn't look how people think it should. "I don't wanna tell you how to think or anything. But that's what  _ I _ think."

Barry turns this over in his mind. The vicious double standard in everyone else's favor is something he's aware of, in a logical way. It's mostly just a sneaky kind of pride, a sort of pissing contest over who can suffer more or make do with less, which is rich coming from someone so outwardly humble.

It's something he could probably work on, though. Maybe if he tries to look at it from her perspective he'll see it more clearly. Maybe he could look at himself that way.

And anyway, if it were the other kind of pride, the chest-pounding, braggadocio kind, he'd knock it off before he became insufferable. 

"I think...yeah, that does track. It tracks in a way like I'd say about the same thing to anyone else," he admits. "I think I can try to look at it that way, anyhow. I might need reminding though, but I guess who doesn't?" He chuckles a little.

That's comforting to hear, that he sees the double standard happening. She sees hers too, at least on a surface level. Maybe they can both try to be a little more aware of their hypocrisies. 

"Listen, if you want me to mind my own and never speak of this again, I'll try. But if you don't... I think I could use reminding sometimes, too. You're free to call me out. And I'll... try to be better about taking it." She holds the door to the apartment open for him, a peace offering hidden in plain domesticity.

Barry gives her a soft smile. This is what they both need, really, someone to call them out on their bullshit and ensure they get what they need even when they’re bad at asking.

“I’d like that,” he says. “You’re free to call me out too, and hey, we both know you’re in charge around here, I’d better pay attention,” he adds with a chuckle.

He walks into the apartment, turning to her as the door shuts behind him and holding out his pinky. “We’ll both do better about cutting ourselves some slack then, and remind each other when we need it,” he says, smiling wide.

Lup links their pinkies, and stamps their thumbs for good measure. "Alright. Promise. Wanna start by... helping me out with this caramel-corn? Popcorn's above the fridge." She grins, heading off into the kitchen.

“For sure. Tell me what to do, let’s get this caramel-corn rolling,” he answers, smiling back and trailing after her to the kitchen.

Shockingly, the apartment doesn't burn down in their attempt to get Barry popping some corn. On the contrary, a simple recipe given a little help actually proves to be pretty easy. She's still not planning on letting him melt the caramel any time soon, but-- baby steps.  Lup's a good teacher, patient with his little fumbles, and Barry's quick on the uptake. Before long they’ve got plenty of caramel-corn to share.  The big bowl is still warm when they knock on the door across the hall.

“Hey, guys,” he says in greeting as Magnus answers the door. “What’re we watching tonight?”

"Well..."

" _ We are not watching All Dogs again, Magnus. _ " Taako strolls to the door, in the gaudiest, fluffiest of robes, and snatches a piece of popcorn. "Not when this plane has so many good flicks! There's something called a  _ Spider-Man _ ?"

He leads them into the apartment, now outfitted with an ungodly number of blankets and cushions, as well as the little projector. Lucretia's already settled on the couch with a mug, and makes a face at the words  _ spider _ and  _ man _ being used together. "I swear, I'm being diplomatic, Luce. He like, fights crime or something."

Barry snags a seat on the couch, leaving room for Lup beside him. “Okay, but what’s spider about him? Bonus legs? Excessive eyes?”

“If you’ll hush and watch the movie I bet you’ll find out, wontcha?” Taako answers crisply as he adjusts the projector. There’s another knock at the door. “Get that, wouldja Mags?”

Magnus comes back in a moment, Merle and Davenport in tow. “All here,” he announces.

"Okay, you can hold the bowl if you  _ share _ , Ko." Lup tosses a kernel at him, which he snatches from the air with a Mage Hand. 

"Not! In! The hair! Lu! I am not washing caramel out of this, not today." 

"Just play the ding-dang movie, Dingus." She snorts, burrowing into a quilt next to Barry. "Hey Cap'n--"

A flicker in the air below the projection reads  _ Pass the Popcorn _ , before fading into actual captions as the movie begins.

Barry settles in next to Lup, snagging a couple kernels of popcorn. The movie is pretty fantastical, imagine dealing with all that as a teenager and then still fighting crime in a mask. Barry’s pretty sure he’d be pissed, if it were him.

It’s nice to relax with the crew though, and to steal a corner of Lup’s quilt to share. He lets his hand fall down beneath the quilt without really thinking about it, and gives her knee a little squeeze.

And then immediately rethinks every decision he’s ever made that led him to this moment and freezes, an apology ready, in the interminable half-second before she reacts.

"Gods, are parents really that  _ dull _ ?" Lup snorts, shifting a bit to rest her head on Barry's shoulder, and Taako chimes in from beside her. 

"Yeah, fool's a cop? or something?? Can't even tell his kids got a whole thing goin'? Literally what are you doing!"

"Ohh, he knows," Davenport quips from an armchair. 

"Can you all  _ stop talking _ over the movie?" 

"Sorry, Luce..."

She laid her head against his shoulder.

Oh, that’s...that’s perfect. It’s more than he dared to hope for.

He snuggles in closer, and signs a quick  _ share? _ with a little tug on the tiny corner of the blanket he’s pulled across his lap.

The crew’s distracted, they’ll just think it’s...method acting, or whatever, it’s fine.

It’s better than fine. It’s wonderful.

_ Yeah, sorry... _ Lup shifts a bit to pull more of the blanket free, smile soft as she settles right back in. A girl could get used to this .

Maybe it's a little underhanded, to let the expectations of this culture affect how they act with each other. Maybe she'd feel a little guilty for playing into it, if Barry seemed to mind. It's been obvious since day one that the twins are a bit clingy, the Captain and the humans a bit more reserved (with Magnus as the exception, as Magnus is wont to be). It's no secret that, given the opportunity, a little bit of blanket sharing  ~~ bed sharing, space sharing ~~ was bound to happen. 

So it's a little unprofessional. Nothing about this mission has gone to plan. And if two grown adults are comfortable sharing a little platonic cuddle, who says they shouldn't? It doesn't have to be anything more than what it is. It could be, maybe someday. But for now, comfortable friends can be more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Chapter summary aside, they're trying! And they deserve an intimate little picnic!  
> SA: They are is the thing! Is it perfect? Hardly. But it's leaps and bounds better than some days, so I'll give 'em a pat on the fictional back.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the never ending march of progress! There is simply no feeling like the one you get from a new tech release.
> 
> It's kind of a sinking...anyhow.

Time passes easily here. The crew falls into their routine, going about their work, going about their lives, all very normal. For Barry, it's a dream. He wakes in the morning next to Lup, gets ready to go, they study the Light in spacious, well-equipped labs. In the evenings, they're together sometimes, but if they separate to spend time with one of the others or run errands or any number of things, no one takes it amiss for them to squeeze hands or hug an extra moment, or for Barry to ghost a kiss over Lup's hairline and say, "I'll bring home pork chops for dinner." Best. Plane. Ever.

And it's into that routine that Lucretia's partner, Olivia, drops a bomb one day.

"Guys," Lucretia says one morning at an all-crew breakfast, "Olivia's noticed some things at work. There's more rematches being pulled than she's ever seen, and rumors of extra data points? And something about a new project. She said she'd keep an eye out, but it seemed weird."

"Whataya mean, data points?" Magnus puzzles over his eggs, "Stuff with the Light-science?"

Lucretia shakes her head, stirring her tea longer than strictly necessary. "No, no. Like, parameters for making the matches. It's like they're refiguring the whole matching science, getting stricter with it. I dunno, apparently some people are getting pulled for rematch that... haven't even requested to be?" 

"That's  _ weird _ , Luce. You don't think they'd try to pull... us, right?" Lup steals the milk from her, just a splash for her coffee. "Like, I know you've had good luck and all, but... I'm not looking to move in with some rando any time soon."

Barry frowns. That doesn't sound good. He doesn't like that one bit. "Did they say why? Like what new data points?" he asks.

Lucretia finishes a long sip of her tea. "They still say they're optimizing the matches for happiness, but with me they pulled the top five and let me narrow them, now apparently they're sifting down to two? And the questionnaire is longer, Olivia said she saw some come through that were nearly twice as long as ours. She heard--" she pauses. "She heard folks in the next office talking about 'making sure' folks were happy."

"Okay, first of all, hate that," Taako says bluntly. "What are they, going around breaking folks up over underpants on the floor-- _ Magnus _ \--and little shit like that? No couple's blissfully happy always, that's dumb."

"Yeah, yeah, that's--  _ Luce _ ? That's a  _ yikes _ from me." Lup stabs at her eggs. If this is turning into some sort of Fantasy Big Brother type shit, they could end up in a lot of trouble real quick. 

The gears turning behind Davenport's eyes move quick and visibly, and he clears his throat. "Alright, while this is potentially troubling, we can't be certain there is anything malicious behind it. Lucretia? Please keep us informed of any changes you're made aware of; the same goes for us all. It's certainly not the most overt threat to our safety we've seen--" Lup quietly taps the wood of the table, "-- but we should all be alert." 

There's a round of nods and  _ aye _ s along with Lucretia's response, "Of course, Captain. Uhmm... sidenote? Are you guys still coming to trivia night at McHebe's tonight?"

"Luce, we're aliens. We're awful at trivia." Lup rolls her eyes. "Of course we're coming."

For several days, nothing important happens. Then, one afternoon, Lup and Barry walk up to their apartment door to find a note.

**Hi! We were in your apartment today!**

**Thanks to new advances in research in the field of Citizen Flourishing, we've installed technology designed to make YOUR life happier! You'll find a small speaker permanently mounted on the wall. There is no need to touch to activate, simply ask!**

**You can play music, access information, communicate with neighbors, order food and other necessities, even call for help in an emergency! Give it a try!**

**(Speakers are manned 24/7 by a small but dedicated team who prioritizes emergency response. If you haven't received a response in several minutes, simply ask again!)**

Barry reads the note twice, then passes it to Lup. He opens his mouth, then thinks better of it and signs " _ I HATE this, I hate it a LOT. _ "

Lup reads over his shoulder, snatching it the second it's offered.  _ No. Nononononono-- _

The door creaks on its hinges with the force of Lup storming in, silently scanning the living room, the kitchen, turning back to Barry--  _ there _ . A nondescript, little white panel in the wall, just near the door. She points the note at it, paper crinkling with her furious signs. " _ This is SO wrong! What the HELL?" _

She reads through the note again, and again, looking for answers and finding  _ nothing _ but a sinking feeling. " _ They just get to listen to us? Whenever they want?" _ Hell no. This is  _ exactly _ what Olivia warned them about, and somehow it's  _ so much worse _ than Lup expected. They didn't have anything to hide, not really, but something about all of this read way more malicious than some gadget to order pizza with. 

_ "We gotta talk to Dav. _ " Lup brushes past Barry and into the hall. A few of their neighbours’ doors sport the same note tacked at eye level, the monotony of which is unsettling to say the least. A door swings open down the hall, and a pair of folks in white coveralls step out, carrying a heavy-looking toolbox and a box Lup can't quite read the label on. She stops outside the door, schools her expression as they see her, and folds the paper up to stuff in her pocket.  _ Shit. _

Barry follows her back to the door, and waves to the worker as they go back about their business. “Thanks, folks!” he calls cheerily. 

“ _ Agreed, act normal and let’s figure it out, _ ” he signs. Out loud he says, “Babe, I’m gonna run the vacuum, can you grab an end and help me scoot the couch back?”

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing..." Lup follows him inside, waving to the workers as they continue down the hall. The door clicks shut. 

_ "We have to talk to the others! This isn't the time for Spring Cleaning!" _ She can't help but pace, signing in wild proportions. Gods, this thing can't  _ see them _ , can it? Lup silently thanks the gods she didn't end up teaching sign here.

“Just right back here, and then I’ll do this half and we can put it back, you ready?” Barry says, not even touching the couch. “ _ I know, but they need to hear something that means nothing, normal shit. If they’re listening, they’ll think we don’t care and nothing’s changed. _ ”

Lup watches his hands. He's right. She sighs. "Yeah, alright, no prob  _ babe _ ." She doesn't even reach for the closet for the vacuum, instead pulling her wand from her boot and Prestidigitating up some suitable noise.

Barry thinks for a second. “ _ This means we have to be married all the time now, bet you anything they’re looking for conflict to rematch folks. I— _ ” he pauses to gather his thoughts.

“ _ We can beat this. We’ve been friends and coworkers longer than most of these fools have been married. No fighting out loud, only sap, but we still gotta work out whatever comes up, just quietly. We can be perfect for them and regular messy for us still, you know? We just can’t suppress any BS, that’ll never work, it’ll break out worse.We can tell the crew and pretend it’s just normal shit, too, low profile, you know? _ ”

" _ Yeah, okay, you're right. Play their game, don't let it mess with us. Easy. Totally easy. We've gotta make sure the crew knows, we'll all be chill if we know what we're doing." _ She signs it, but it looks like she's reassuring herself more than anything. This is it, this is the nightmare scenario. They can listen in whenever, not even their  _ home _ is safe. 

Lup continues pacing,  _ "Gods, this is so fucked up-- I KNEW there was something fishy going on. You think the Light did this? _ "

Barry considers this. “ _ Maybe? Kinda like the other planes, they get it and go nuts, like they can’t handle it. We’ll have to look out at work. _ ” Were there speakers at work? He didn’t know.

“Okay, wanna move it back and I’ll get the other—ooh!” he yelps. He grins. “Cheeky, babe!” He winks. “ _ Fake pinching my ass? Nice touch, _ ” he signs.

Lup nods, yeah, they could keep an eye out at the labs--

She slaps a hand over her mouth, taming a laugh to a little snort. " _ You wish! _ " It is a nice touch, a smart idea if they really want to sell this. A welcome distraction to the dystopian turn this plane is taking. And totally not because an excuse to flirt with him, however staged amongst however much Wack Shit ™ , kind of makes her stomach do little flips. 

"Can ya blame me, with an ass like that?" She raises an eyebrow, letting a little smirk play across her face as she signs. " _ Game on." _

Barry laughs. " _ Excellent. _ "

"I really can't; you know I'll let you do what _ ever _ you want with it, too," he teases. His heart rate speeds up. He walks toward her, slow, and plants a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks for helping with the couch, dear," he says, not meaning all those words exactly but definitely meaning several of them deeply.

He's kissed her cheek probably a hundred times in the months they've been on this plane. She's done the same. So it shouldn't come as a surprise when he does it this time, quick and chaste, as Lup shakes her head at  _ that _ comment. 

But right now, they're alone. 

Okay, creepy speaker notwithstanding. If the people behind this newest addition to their living room had eyes on them though, they'd already be done in-- Why fake running the vacuum if you didn't have something to hide? 

No, that one was for  _ her _ . 

"Uhh... no prob." She chuckles, because she's not quite sure how to process that one right now, and a good-natured laugh never hurt a façade of marital bliss. "What, uhh, what're you feelin' for dinner? We should have the crew by, dontcha think?"

Barry feels slightly giddy. "Maybe, uh, maybe something easy for a crowd? Or family-style meatloaf maybe?" he answers.

The speaker can't see them. He could've as easily blown her a kiss, if he was after sound effects.

But he really wanted to kiss her cheek, so he did. Because he loves her, and she's pretty, and they're fake married, and they're worried and scared. Most important of those, though, is that he loves her  _ so fucking much _ he can't stand it.

"Want me to help with dinner?" he asks.

"Meatloaf?" She makes for the kitchen, twisting her hair up in a bun as she goes. "I admire the vibe, but where's the creativity? The panache? We can do better than meatloaf, Barold." 

Lup pulls open a cupboard, scoping out their options. "Hmmm, could you ring up the others and see who's free? That might inform the menu." Hopefully they can round up at least the crew living in the building to debrief about their "technological upgrades". Lup pulls down a few jars, rice and spices. "Feelings on a pilaf?"

Barry chuckles. "If you make it, it will be delicious, and I for one will devour it," he promises.

Gods, her putting her hair up that way  _ does _ things to him.  _ Hhhhhoooooly shit. _

He snaps out of it. Time to get acquainted with their new little buddy, evidently. Hmmm. Just ask?

"Ummm, hello?" he says to the wall, feeling ridiculous. "Can I talk to Taako, please?"

A little light clicks on blue at the top of the panel. It blinks a moment, before solidifying once again. 

**"Would you like to. Make a Call?"** A robotic voice chimes, stilted and influent.  **"Please. Speak the Apartment Number or Establishment Name you wish to Call. For other Options, simply say: More."**

The little blue light pulses once again. Listening.

"Uhhh, gods. Fuck, which one are they, we're twenty-two..." he mutters. They’re on the even side, and the boys are across the hall, so...?

"Apartment twenty-three, please," he says. 

The light blinks again, and the robotic voice comes back. **“** **Connecting.”**

A moment later, the speaker comes to life, filling the room with Taako's voice. "What do you  _ mean _ 'twenty-two incoming'? What do those  _ fucking _ words mean together you piece of--"

"Taako it's Barry, we're apartment twenty-two, remember?" Barry cuts in.

"Oh, Barold? Yeah, weird day over here, my guy, jay ess why kay, what's up though, why are you talking to me from my wall?"

"Lup's making dinner, you guys wanna come over? I'm gonna see if the rest wanna come too," Barry says.

"Yeah, we can, lucky you, just caught me before I started cooking, she want help with it?" Taako asks.

"I'll check," Barry says. He wanders into the kitchen. "Taako and Mags can come; Taako wants to know if you want help cooking," he says.

Lup watches on in horror from the kitchen as Barry talks to the wall. And the wall talks back. With her brother's voice. Albeit distorted. 

"Uhh... yeah, sure..." She blinks. Fuckin'  _ weird _ . "See if he won't bring over the projector, I've got half a mind to watch All Dogs  ~~_ Make some noise so we can talk _ ~~ later." She signs as she speaks, which is only half as confusing as  _ understanding that _ must be. This sucks.

"Ooh yeah, that'll be fun!  ~~_ Good call _ ~~ I'll tell him," Barry says, then heads back to the speaker.

"She said yes, can you guys bring the projector and maybe we can watch All Dogs Go to Heaven after dinner?" Barry says into the speaker.

Taako snorts. "If you insist, have we not seen that one four million times though? I mean Mags'll love it, but  _ four million. _ "

"You know me, man, anything for my beautiful bride. See you two soon."

"Yeah, be there in a minute, bye."

"Ummm," Barry says uncertainly. "All done? Hang up? Finished?"

The blue light pulses. “ **It sounds like your conversation is finished. To continue, say Talk More. To close the connection, say End Call.”**

"End call," Barry says.

**“Goodbye.”** The voice replies, and the light goes out.

Well. Now that Barry's accomplished an entire phone call, he feels the powerful urge to lie down for about four months. He wanders into the kitchen. " _ That's weird as hell. I'll call Dav and Merle in a minute, but. What the hell? _ " he signs. "Smells great, darling," he says.

_ "I hate it. I hate that thing So Much. How are they taking it? _ " Lup signs, leaning up against the counter.

Barry nods in agreement. " _ Same, Taako sounds like he wants to blast it to pieces, _ " he signs.

"Thanks, doll. The boys comin' over?" she says, voice full of much more cheer than her face. 

"Should be here any minute," he replies.

The doorbell rings and flashes,  _ thank gods they live so close _ . Lup visibly relaxes a bit, "Guess that'll be them. I got it." She heads for the door, turning to give Barry's ass an audible smack. She turns, walking backwards to sign, " _ Show must go on... _ "  _ wink _ .

The sudden smack makes him jump and blush red as a tomato. "Oh!" he yelps involuntarily, and his hand flies back to grab at the spot. It didn't even really sting, through jeans, just made a loud sound, but it sure did send a flood of feelings through Barry all in an instant.

It felt proprietary, like she was in charge and he was  _ hers _ . Gods, does he want to be  _ hers _ .

He turns a dazed and besotted smile on her. "Yes,  _ ma'am, _ " he says cheekily.

Let them blur the lines between reality and fictitious relationship, godsdammit, Barry is a good person and deserves to get his ass slapped by his hot wife. Hell yes. And also? Ball's in his court now, time to play. He trails in after her to greet the boys and wrestle the speaker some more.

The crew gathers around the dinner table as the twins bring out an absolutely  _ sinful _ smelling pilaf. When cooking is your therapy, and the world starts turning more pear-shaped than usual, at least they can all look forward to a dangerously good end product. 

Initially, the spaces between conversation threaten to swell and blow their cover. There's been enough idle chit-chat to fend off complete silence, but everyone seems to have come to similar conclusions: The speakers are evil, and they are listening. 

"This is--uhh, this is real good, guys." Magnus stammers to fill another growing gap in conversation. "You uhh... try somethin' new... with the... ssspice...es...?"

Lups fork threatens to bend in her anxious, iron grip. "Coriander." It absolutely isn't coriander.  _ "Did anyone get a warning about these things coming in? Olivia?" _

Everyone's head shakes, no, no, no, no warnings. Olivia leans over to whisper in Lucretia's ear. " _ She says no warning, but it's a different department. Apparently the 'small but dedicated team' is like three people. They sit and wait for things the automation can't handle, _ " Lucretia explains.

Barry makes a face. "It's really good, babe, I'd eat this once a week easy," he says. " _ Great. So they probably aren't listening at any given moment, but absolutely could be. How fucking efficient. _ "

"Thanks for inviting me, too, I didn't realize your cooking was so good or I'd've begged Luci to take me with her last time," Olivia chimes in. She whispers to Lucretia again, and Lucretia blushes a bit. " _ She says the team keeps having to lower the volume on folks, um, making love. _ "

Lup nearly chokes on her rice.  _ Now there's a thought... _

"Awwh, you're too kind. And you're welcome over any time, of course." She feels bad, watching Luce interpret their doubly-foreign signs for Olivia. She knows the feeling, waiting on what feels like a half-rate participation, knowing it's not a burden but always sort of wondering  _ maybe _ . Even if turning the tables comes in handy at times like these.  _ "Thank you for coming, Olivia. Your help is... invaluable. Really. _ " 

_ "Cool, cool. If we want some privacy, all we gotta do is screw!" _ Taako puffs out his cheeks for emphasis, and Lup fights back a cackle. " _ What-- Am I wrong??" _

Barry blushes deeply as Merle answers. “ _ That oughta do it, huh? Gotta get that privacy... _ ” He winks.

Imagine, just imagine...that was something to think about, huh? Obviously some couples would be perfectly happy without sex, all kinds to make a world and all, but he and Lup were playing this pretty flirty. What type of expectations were these folks operating under for marital happiness?

But imagine, though...Barry hopes if they do have sex it’ll be for them, just because they want to, not because it’s expected. But he also knows that at least one of them genuinely does want to.

He smiles and picks up the conversation before it lags too much. “Agreed, the more the merrier, door’s always open,” he says. “I’m real happy for you two, you seem so good together.” It’s true, even if he is trying to give a little testimonial for the speaker. Olivia seems thoughtful and positive, and Lucretia seems to glow around her. They are happy, hopefully happy enough not to destabilize things with a new unknown match.

The food’s nearly gone now. In a few moments they should get the movie started. But first, “ _ Merle, we don’t need to know about it! _ ”

Plenty of grossed out faces and palatable conversation later, the crew-plus-Olivia settle in for Totally Just a Movie with No Secret Conversations Therein™️™️™️. Magnus, and Olivia fairly enough, get moderately distracted by All Dogs and their post-mortem shenaniganery, and the bulk of the crew worry on the finer details of what mission-relevant information they'll need to keep out of the ears of the speakers. 

Lup curls up between Taako and Barry, hands in the conversation but mind half somewhere else. Secrecy they can do. Covert they can do. Hell, pretending to all be variants on married, they can do. But being watched, monitored for gods know what is already getting well under her skin. One wrong comment could get them traded in, stuck with strangers that might not be as like-minded as Liv. It's all very much like walking on eggshells. Weird, romantically-charged eggshells.

At least the movie is familiar. Her brother, her friends, her best friend are all familiar. She leans against Barry's shoulder. In a few months, this world will be behind them. Might as well work with the silver lining she's been given.

Barry settles in for the movie, ready to hash out a plan. They talk it round and round: always-on in their faux relationships, nothing to see here, check in with each other frequently. Smiles up, act natural, free-flowing sap. Olivia will keep her eyes open at work, Lup and Barry in the labs, the others at their respective jobs. Excellent.

Lup leans against his shoulder, and Barry curls his arm around her, dragging down the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both. There they are, a couple with history, cuddled up together and draped in family. He kisses her hair softly. “ _ We’ve got this, babe, _ ” he signs. They do. They will.

They’ve got to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Well folks, looks like that little voice of instinct vis-a-vis this plane's ulterior motives was right. Fortunately, it looks like the crew has a solid plan in place!  
> SA: In case you guys weren't *entirely* certain we read 1984 in high school, we give you... This Chapter. It'll be okay, though! Probably...


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to unforeseen events, the crew has a party/discussion.
> 
> Due to unforeseen (tequila-based) events occurring during and after that party, Lup and Barry wind up holding their own, private afterparty.
> 
> (Wink.)

It's fine. Everything is fine.

They go to work, they come home, they hang out with the crew and even some friends from the apartment complex, and maybe Lup flicks her tail or shakes her foot a bit more than usual but she's fine, it's  _ fine. _

She meets Barry at the door with groceries, performative instinct to give him a quick kiss on the cheek cut off by sounds of an argument, and the two turn to see someone leading one of their neighbours from their door. 

"What do you mean re-assignment? We didn't request one-- We're  _ happy _ ?"

If they’re happy, why would they be rematched? That doesn’t make sense, is the other spouse unhappy?

One of the folks sets down the dolly he’s wheeled up. He sets a hand on the neighbor—Kent, Barry remembers—Kent’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend things are fine anymore, you’ll be so happy with your new match!”

Kent’s spouse Jordan comes out of the apartment, escorted by another person Barry doesn’t recognize. “It wasn’t a  _ fight _ , even,” they explain, “we settled on a movie, it’s fine, can you get out of our home and let us have our date? This is ridiculous!”

“You guys okay, Kent?” Barry asks, though he’s pretty well sized up the answer.

“Just a misunderstanding, I’m sure, we’ll straighten it out—no, Jordan, honey, it’s okay, don’t cry, we’ll figure it out, I love you so much,” Kent reassures. He reaches to pull Jordan close, but falls back as one of the strangers steps between them.

Olivia was right.

Barry nods slowly and glances at Lup. “Alrighty, good luck you two,” he says. “Come on, let’s get these groceries in the kitchen, babe, sooner we do this the sooner I can smooch you silly.” He keeps his tone falsely light.

Oh, he Hates. This.

Lup blinks, mouth agape, at the scene playing out in front of them. She lets Barry pull her into the apartment, waiting for the door to swing shut before her hands start flying. 

_ "What. The Hell. Was That? We have to get out of here. Barry, we gotta-- we gotta-- It's the Light, it has to be. The Light's making them rash and and and-- Gods, did you see Jordan's face? _ " 

She could cry, so full of the anxiety that's been threatening to bubble over, finally tipped over the edge. Gods, she wants to scream, to  _ speak _ , but they've taken even that from them.  _ Arguing over a movie? _ Of all the things people could fight over, that people who truly, genuinely  _ love each other _ fight over every day... 

They can't keep this up. She's going to lose her mind like this.

Barry sets the groceries down fast, face grim. “ _ That’s—I hate that. We need to tell the others, they need to know to be careful too, _ ” he replies.

“They had a buy one get one on cereal so I got two, they’ll keep,” he says aloud. “I missed you, though, didja miss me?”

Barry steps a little closer. The look on her face—she’s fucked up over this, he is too, this is scary and shitty. The groceries can wait. “ _ Hug? Just for us, not for those idiots; they don’t deserve to know. We can do this. _ ”

"Yeah, 'course I did, silly." She hates how easy it's become to keep up this double-conversation going. 

Lup doesn't even sign, just steps into his arms and buries her face in his shirt. This is bullshit. This is such bullshit. They took a perfectly good plane and infected it with greed and dissatisfaction and  _ hunger _ . Their mission, this  _ stupid Light _ , all they ever did was destroy every place they came in contact with. 

Barry wraps her in his arms, aware that this is her moment to need comfort, but his is  _ definitely _ coming around later, probably real soon. He rubs her back, up and down, up and down, a silent ‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you’.

“Wild how you can miss someone even if you’re only apart a few minutes,” he chuckles. “I was just trying to buy apples and all I could think of was you in that pair of jorts you have.”

He’ll hold her as long as it takes. He knows she’ll hold him too, when it’s his turn to be upset and overwhelmed. He drops kisses on her hair, fuck it, let ‘em hear, they’re  _ so fucking in love _ after all.

Lup doesn't pull away, just turns her face to whisper in his ear. An act of defiance against the freedom this place has taken from them, and the bullshit that's caused it. "We have to get the Light."

Barry nods in agreement, unwilling to let her go. This plane can’t handle the Light, the crew needs to get it back before any more damage is done. This happens  _ every time, _ folks can’t handle the Light’s power and they turn on each other, on themselves. The crew—well maybe they’re playing with fire, but none of them have had that problem, knock on wood. They can help here, they have to.

“Hey babe? We should totally get the crew together and make frozen margaritas, and have a game night, that would be fun.” Enjoy blender sounds, idiots, the crew needs to touch base.

Lup's stopped blushing at his little shows of affection. At least outwardly. She's gotten used to them in such a way that his lips pressed to her hair comfort her like they're meant to, instead of distracting her with butterflies and red-tipped ears. She wonders if they'll disappear altogether after the year is up. She hopes not. 

Lup nods, finally letting Barry go. As much as she wants to curl up in frustration and anger, he's right. They need to talk, and they need to have some damned  _ fun _ before this place drives them all mad. 

"Sounds good, B. I think we could all use it," she says. 

_ "Thank you," _ she signs.

“ _ You’re always welcome, _ ” he signs back. 

“I’ll round ‘em up after I put the groceries away,” he tells her. “And I can run back out if we need more tequila, I think we might?”

They’ll be okay, they’re on the same page, a united front. Barry picks up the groceries and heads for the kitchen.

"I'll go bug Ko, have them bring some over. Be right back." She heads out, giving the speaker a good scowl on her way. 

\--

"Okay, Liv. Your teen name iiiiiiiiiis... street you grew up on. And. Least favourite soda." Lup lounges on the couch, feet kicked up on Barry's lap while they wait on the rest of the crew.

Taako holds up a hand, "Lemme just tweak that a little bit? Your teen name is your least favourite soda. And. The first band you ever loved."

Barry laughs. “Wait, wait...first name is your least favorite soda, last name is your favorite soda.” He pats Lup’s shin. “I’m Fanta Dr. Pepper and I’m 14 years old!”

Lup cackles, "I'm Sprite Pepsi!  _ Pfffft _ and I'm-- And I'm abstinence till I DIE!" 

Olivia and Lucretia whisper back and forth a moment, snickering, and Liv pipes up, "I'm RC Jasta, and I choose hugs, not drugs!" 

Olivia laughs, leaning into Lucretia's lap on the loveseat they share. She makes to answer when the doorbell flashes, and Magnus lets himself in with  _ several additional bottles of tequila _ . 

" _ RC Jasta?? _ " Magnus laughs on his way to play sous-mixologist to Taako.

"Dude?? We said like... one, maybe two!"

"Yeah,  _ each, _ good boy." Taako plucks one from his arms, "Time to lime it up."

Barry laughs harder as Taako makes for the kitchen. “Oh hell yes, time to let our hair down, huh?”

The doorbell flashes again, but it’s illegal to move with Lup’s feet resting in his lap. “C’mon in Cap, Merle,” he calls as Magnus opens the door.

“Heard there were margaritas!” Merle says as they enter.

Davenport pulls up a seat next to Merle, " _ I assume this evening isn't just for drinks, am I correct?" _

“ _ No, sir, I just had to think fast and picked the noisiest fun time that came to mind. Our neighbors were rematched today, _ ” Barry signs. He pauses. “ _ They didn’t want to be. They were overheard disagreeing on what movie to see and some folks just showed up and started packing them up to go to new matches. _ ”

He settles his hand back on Lup’s leg, as though she might go somewhere. He doesn’t want her to go anywhere, not without him, anyway. Also, he hopes she’s not really abstinence til she dies, but that’s a train of thought for another time.

Davenport shakes his head, and Lucretia wears shock across her face as she relays the development to Olivia. Olivia whispers something back. “ _ She says that fits with the big emphasis on unity she’s seen. Research, permits for some sort of unity gala, art commissions, all sorts of things. _ ”

"Hey Ko! Make mine a double!" Lup calls, both to keep the speakers appeased and as a response to the actual literal  _ hell _ conversation being had via sign. 

_ "Okay, this is worrying. Is this anything you've seen before, Olivia?" _ To his credit, Davenport appears to take this all in stride. Knowing him for 15 years though? This definitely has his anxiety piqued.  _ Welcome to the club, Cap. _

Olivia shakes her head, a gesture which needs no translation.  _ This is new _ . Lup looks to Barry.  _ "It's the Light." _

Barry nods grimly. “ _ We should probably prioritize recovery of the Light, before anything too serious happens. These folks don’t deserve this upheaval, but also we still stand a chance of preventing the worst of the bloodshed. _ ”

“ _ How do we do that, though? It’s right in the lab, you two are in there every day. You know they’ll miss it, _ ” Merle points out.

Lup waves her hand, " _ They can know it's missing. They just can't know We took it. If we can get to it outside of our lab hours..." _

Olivia leans in to whisper, and Lucretia seems to consider her words as she signs, " _ If this gala's as big as it seems it will be, that could at least give an alibi? Yeah, yeah, that might work. _ " Luce smiles, giving her wife a nod and a peck on the cheek. 

_ "It's as good an option as any. Please, keep us updated if you hear more about this gala. You two," _ Captain Davenport turns to Barry and Lup on the couch, " _ Pay attention to security protocols surrounding the Light. Anything we might use to get to it." _ Lup nods. Time to turn on another world for their own good. 

"How are those drinks comin'?"

\--

Several drinks later, if anyone’s listening in, all they hear is laughter and half-started giddy sentences as the crew relaxes together.

“Okay, okay, but—“ Taako laughs, “okay but there had to be one, right, like when you were a kid? What wackadoo thing did you think was real for too long?”

Barry snorts a laugh. “Here’s—okay, here’s one, I thought jeans were made of leaves. Which, like, I  _ guess? _ Someone must’ve told me about cotton, but that’s  _ not _ how I thought it worked,” he says.

Merle laughs. “Nah, that’s not how plants—“

“Merle,  _ no! _ ” Magnus cackles.

Lup snorts, burying her face in Taako's shoulder. "I am  _ not _ deaf enough for wherever that sentence is going, oh my gods." Taako has a nearly identical snort, muffled by her hair in his face. 

"Well somebody needs to teach your boyfriend how plants do..."

"He's not my  _ boyfriend, Merle! _ " Lup cuts him off before he can finish that thought.

Taako waves for her attention, stifling a laugh, "Pffff no, no, he's your--  _ hah _ \-- your  _ Jusband _ ! Your fuckin'-- Denim Husband!"

Lup cackles, wrapping an arm around Barry's shoulders. " _ Thank _ you! Show some  _ respect _ , Merle!"

Barry throws back his head and laughs, a loud, long guffaw. “ _ Jusband! _ Gods it seems like our jedding was only yesterday, and I was a nervous wreck waiting to see my beautiful jride—“ he cuts himself off, laughing so hard he coughs. He recovers a little and turns to kiss Lup’s hand where it falls over his shoulder. “Gods,  _ jusband, _ ” he chortles, red faced with the alcohol and the jokes.

Olivia pipes up. “You two are a lovely jouple,” setting off even more laughter.

Lup snags her glass from the coffee table and hoists it out. "To all the lovely jouples here tonight!" There's a round of "here here!"s and laughter.  _ May we all last the year _ , she doesn't say.

By the time she's finished that drink, Liv and Luci have headed off with excuses of work come morning, and Merle and Davenport have already started their walk to the ship. Old habits die hard, and when Luce and her girl were looking for a place, Cap was already out the door.

Lup taps the ear of one Very Passed Out Taako. "So much for drinkin'  _ my _ ass under the table... Mags, you need help getting this one home? I mean he's welcome to stay, but-"

"If he wakes up on the couch" Magnus chimes in with her, "Nahh, I gott'em." Magnus scoops the elf up princess-style, and Taako wraps a very sleepy arm around his shoulder. Lup chuckles; they've absolutely done this before.

"Alright, get him back safe. Still good for the gym tomorrow?" Lup props the door open with her hip.

“Still good, I’ll bring my A game,” Magnus promises. “Night, guys.”

“Night,” Barry echoes, trying and failing to get up from the couch. “Whoa, this one really swallows ya,” he chuckles tipsily. “Guess I either had too many or just one short of enough, huh?” 

He reaches a hand out to Lup, fully unselfconscious. “Can I get a hand?”

Lup giggles, cheeks sporting a bit of colour from a drink or two ago. "Yeah, comere.." She tugs him up by the hand, very nearly stumbling back in the process. That only earns another round of giggles. 

"Time for bed, huh? Come on, let's get you to sleep." She wraps an arm around his waist, leaning in maybe a bit too comfortably to guide him through to the bedroom. "Im 'unna throw some pee-jays on, don't look. Or do, I won't blame ya,  _ babe _ ." She giggles, shoots him a little wink, and makes for the drawers. What is it about tequila that makes a girl want to wear something  _ pretty _ to bed?... Lup shoves that thought aside, and settles on something matchy, but definitely not the most suggestive she's got. That would just be  _ rude _ .

Barry giggles. Lup’s arm at his waist feels good, steadying him off to bed. It’s sweet and just...he likes it, in a way he can’t piece together too well at the moment. “That was so much fun,” he says. He starts to wiggle out of his jeans and shirt, pitching them into the hamper. He stands there in his boxers and...she said it was fine to look, even  _ winked _ at him, but maybe that was just for the speaker’s benefit? He pulls out a soft pair of pajama pants and puts them on.

She’s so cute. He sits on the bed and looks at her and she’s so perfect, standing in her pajamas. “C’mere, c’mere,” he says, making playful grabby hands. “Come snuggle, I’m gonna write you  _ poems _ you’re so pretty...no, I’m bad at poems, just imagine there are some,” he laughs.

She snorts, but obliges, hopping into bed all splayed hair and giggles. This would be it, huh? If some other timeline had blessed them, and there wasn’t a never ending yearly apocalypse gunning for them, this might be life. Lounging around with friends, sans talk of subterfuge and thievery, getting a little tipsy with no ulterior motive but slipping on something pretty and grinning up at a guy she— 

Ahh beans.

It’s fine. It’s totally chill. She’s got a hint of a crush and whole lot of a blush, and the tequila is just... exacerbating all of it. Totally... totally chill.

“Gonna write me  _ poetry _ , huh big guy? No, no, you’ve teased, let me hear it!” She props her head up in her hands, kicking her feet up all cute. “Whatcha got for me?”

Barry gives an embarrassed little whine and giggles. “Nooooo...okay, okay, roses are red, violets are blue, uhhh...Lup is cute and I’m  _ so _ drunk right now,” he says.

He flops back onto the pillow and throws an arm over his eyes. “That’s not a good poem but I like the third line,” he says. He peeks out from under his arm shyly. “Do you like it?”

Lup collapses in a fit of giggles, muffled by the duvet. “You  _ sap _ ! Your rhymes could use a little work, but I love the premise. Very solid, 10 outta 10.” 

She props her cheek up on her arms, eyes heavy, but she’s close enough to mostly hear him and familiar enough with his voice to parse his words. She’s tired, natch, but far too giggly to do anything about it. 

“Hey, hey bear? What’re ya gonna do after this? Yknow like... once we figure out how to like... kick the Hunger’s butt. Like, even if we weren’t just...  _ suuuper _ together.” She winks, sleepy little smile half covered by messy curls. “What would you be doing?” She’s wondered, of course, where they’d all be if things were different. It’s hard not to let that train of thought take her down some real awful what-ifs, but that doesn’t stop her wondering.

“Hmmm...still want that house in the country. Maybe research, maybe teach, maybe write some, not poetry, though,” he laughs. “Like the stuff we’ve studied, you know. Get that research out there. Gonna need my lab partner for that.” 

He turns his face to her. “Don’t wanna live there all by myself though,” he says. “It’s better with a family."

"Yeah, yeah, deffo. Make use of all these notes we've got, totally. Gods, fifteen-plus years of research is really gonna take some doing to get out there, huh. " Lup huffs, rolling over in fake exasperation. "That's so much  _ paperwork _ , Barry!" She flops her arms up to cover her face. 

"Okay, okay, cute little country house, that I can get behind. You would totally be a hunky farm boy in another life, wouldn't ya?" She chuckles, peeking under her arms. "Already got the whole look down pat-- fuckin'... don't think I haven't seen those overalls, we do each others laundry."

“Awww, babe, do you think I’m  _ hunky _ in my overalls? Cause they’re comfy as fuck, I’ll wear them all over, I’m just saying,” Barry laughs.

“Gods, imagine,” he says, “I could just wake up in my little country house, throw on my hunky overalls, slam bang, family’s out of bed, good morning, then cram an unholy amount of work in before breakfast and go teach some folks to speak mongoose and why you should always triple-check your respirator.” He rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and toying with a lock of her hair splayed out between them. “What about you? Whatcha thinking to do?” Ride around on the back of his tractor, he hopes, but not  _ just _ that, obviously.

"Ohh, natch. Total hunk. You think I'd have anything less than a looker?" Lup grins. That hand in her hair is subtle and nice, and she leans into it without a second thought. It's dangerous, really, how easy it is to curl up against him. There's the fleeting, probably drunken thought that she could just kiss him, right there, and that might just be the nicest thing. But she doesn't, of course, because some little, practical part of her reminds her that this is all a game. A survival tactic. It's nice, but it's not real.

"Hmm, what about me... I dunno. Probably write a book. Y'know with all the stuff we have from the Light and these cycles? I mean we've tapped into all kinds of planar-phys shit I could write on. Probably take a vacation, to be real, though. Get a therapist. Yeah, deffo get a therapist." She chuckles, but there's more than a bit of truth there. They could all use a good talking to with folks who hadn't seen the things they'd seen first hand. Oof. That's too much to think about right now.

“Gods, yes, a therapist,” he agrees. “And a vacation sounds good, but even...it’d be a vacation from traveling too much, maybe just time to chill without having to think about anything...dire. A vacation from making  _ decisions _ would be awesome, hell I’d take that for like an  _ hour, _ at this point.”

He ponders a moment. “After seeing all this though...like that house? It’s gonna have to be a fucking anchor and just...always there, but I don’t think I can just hide in there always. Like sometimes I gotta, but sometimes I gotta  _ go do something, _ you know? I’ve seen so much now, and it was all really cool but beyond me, I don’t know,” he says.

They could go do things together. Write those books together, write a few. Maybe she’d stay? Not trapped in a farmhouse like a caged bird or paired up because he’s safer than a stranger, but by his side of her own accord, because she wants to. Maybe.

"Babe, you're looking at the physical manifestation of  _ going and doing _ . But a break from  _ decisions _ ? Yeah, I get what you mean." She can think of a few ways that might go down, nestled up all close like this, a little tipsy and a little not thinking... 

Gods, that would be nice. Fun. 

Don't they deserve a little fun? 

Butterflies threaten to explode from her stomach, but if she doesn't move now, she  _ knows _ she'll lose that nerve. Or the little bit of tipsy she has to blame it on. Lup traces her fingers along his arm, back and forth with the  _ should I, shouldn't I _ s. She can feel the heat in her ears, in her cheeks... 

So she bites her lip, and the bullet, and just says it. "I mean, if you...  _ want _ a break from thinking... I might have a few ideas..."

Those words hit Barry like a train. He swallows, mouth suddenly very dry. She can’t possibly mean...? It sounds like she  _ does, _ though and he can’t think straight beyond  _ want _ and  _ yes _ and  _ please, fuck yes, please. _

“I—yes, if they’re like my ideas  _ at all, _ gods—“ he fumbles.

He’s too excited, he’s eager, he wants whatever she gives him, damn the fallout, appearances aren’t a problem. He’d been so worried about making her uncomfortable or crossing a line but this isn’t that and Barry’s only feeling inclined to draw a couple of lines, easy ones. “Please?”

She can't help but giggle, even if his words are mostly for show. But she knows him, and knows their agreement well enough to know that he wouldn't say yes at all if he didn't want to. 

It's that fact that gives her the final bit of confidence to settle a hand on his cheek and pull him down to her. And maybe she's not at her A-game, kissing him soft and giggly, more like pressing two smiles impossibly close. But she'll take it. Any day.

The kiss is sweet, soft and light, nothing like a practiced, showy thing or too-sloppy pawing. It’s just them, together,  _ happy, _ in defiance of the bigger picture, and Barry is over the moon. Her lips are soft, her hand on his cheek is...gods, he’d follow her anywhere, does she know? He’d do whatever she asked, especially now.

A thousand  _ I love yous _ rise in his throat. They stick, uncertainly. He dumps them into the kiss.

“Lup,” he breathes when their lips part. “I’ve wanted—c’mere—“ and this time it’s him, coming in close, trying not to  _ crush _ or  _ take _ but to  _ share, _ tasting the salt and sweet on her breath, feeling heat and want sweep through him as he kisses her.

For all she'd expected from Barry, chaste wasn't at the top of the list. But he's soft and hesitant in a way that only makes her feel  _ safe _ , held tightly but not crushingly so. It's perfect. 

And then he's pulling her closer and her breath catches and that's perfect too. Her hand finds its way into his hair, not pulling but  _ there _ , like the hand on her waist and their feet tangled together, and that's perfect too. Maybe it's the tequila that has Lup swinging a leg around his hips and settling in his lap, and gods, that's pretty perfect too. 

She pulls back just enough to mumble against his lips, "I've got some pretty good ideas, huh?"

“Gods, do you ever,” he answers. Her in his lap...that has a lot of potential, he doesn’t want to press his luck or their drunkenness, but the images that flood his mind are tantalizing all the same.

“Brilliant ideas, and most importantly,  _ follow through, _ ” he says. Her hand in his hair, firm and solid, something he can feel, and something changeable with her whim. He’s melting. He’s flying. He has no bones in the best way. He could pick her up and spin her or kneel at her feet, anything. He steals another kiss, just a peck, just to see what comes next.

She's all giggles, putty in his hands if he wanted, and he just kisses her. Plain and simple. Lup  _ melts _ . They're probably, definitely, too drunk to let this take them where she wishes it would, but that's fine, that's good. She would hate to push to more, for his sake as well as her own. This much is safe, not too much to regret come morning. 

Regret has no place in this bed tonight. Lup is careful not to leave any room for it, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and pulling him ever closer to her. She tilts her head, messy curls spilling to one side, the strap of her silky top having given up the ghost at some point and taken up residency halfway down her arm, and just looks at him. She could tell him right now, that yeah she's drunk but she  _ also _ means it. That she's thought about doing this more than she'd like to admit. But that wouldn't be fair. So she shakes her head, tucks a finger under his chin, and kisses him with a decade old hunger that she knows his lips alone won't sate.

There’s some part of Barry, while all of him is busy feeling all of this, returning the kiss and hand pressing a little firmer at the small of her back,  _ closer, _ there’s still some part that can’t believe it’s  _ real. _ This is a dream, a tequila-fueled fantasy and his hands’ll go right through her like smoke in a moment. 

But that doesn’t happen. She’s here, she’s solid and real and  _ she started this, _ she  _ wanted _ to kiss him, maybe even as much as he wanted to kiss her and that’s  _ mind-boggling. _

Barry can’t believe his luck. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, gods know that’s tanked things before, but maybe, just maybe, some of his other dreams stand a chance.

Maybe he can kiss her like he means it.

Maybe he can even be brave enough to say the three entire words lodged beneath his ribs, filling him up constantly and hammering to be let out. One day. When he’s sober and she knows he means them.

The strap of her top sliding down is a temptation. He wants to kiss there, just where the strap joins the top, and see what’s underneath. It’s not for him tonight, but the idea that it’s maybe for him someday is dizzying. Maybe he can count the little freckles scattered over her face and shoulders and the tops of her breasts like a thousand kisses from the sun. Maybe he can kiss each one, too, and follow them down under her top like a treasure map, leading him to curves and lines and delights he can only imagine. The little freckle just there on her bottom lip is the beginning, “You Are Here”, lovely and enticing. He’s so incredibly wrapped up in her, in the idea that she might maybe-just-possibly be on the same page with him, might even want more. He teases his tongue between her lips, just a little, just to try. They have time.

Ohh that? That's absolutely perfect too. He tastes like margaritas and popcorn and Lup just kisses him like she needs it to breathe, and really, is it so bad if maybe she does? If maybe, in the morning, when they're inevitably curled up together as they always are, if this time it means a little more? Is there a chance that maybe it could? 

She knows, even like this, that it will for her. Even if it's mostly for show, mostly tequila-based needy, it means more than nothing to her. 

So she'll follow his lead, let careful kisses turn heavy only if he wants, lets her hands roam only as much as his do. She doesn't tease him with her hips like some not insignificant part of her wants to. Gods, does it want to. 

She breaks from him for just a moment, teeth just snagging his lip in a gentle tug as she pulls back. "This is okay, right? We're good?" Her voice is barely a whisper, all soft breath and wanting.

“It’s so good, better than good,” he assures. She’s careful, but she’s going for it, too. Her teeth...gods, those sharp teeth, he can think of a few ways she could use those and he’d  _ beg _ .

“We’ve earned this,” he says. “We deserve this, tell me if it’s too much though? We both drank a bunch, but  _ this _ is what I want _ , _ I want it good for us both.” He nuzzles her jaw.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good.  _ Great _ ." She smiles wickedly, shivering something delicious at his breath on her ear. They do deserve it, absolutely, just two consenting adults, having some fun and not thinking for once. Two... pretty drunk, consenting adults... 

Lup settles both hands on his chest, pressing back just enough to see his face properly. "But... Bear, we're... definitely not sober. And this is... this is chill? I think? But probably, y'know... we shouldn't..."

He nods in agreement. “For sure, we need...I’d wanna talk about it sober first, make sure we’re both on the same page. But kissing, cuddling, I’m all for it, and you...” he blushes. “You’re good at it.”

He pushes a lock of hair out of her face, a little clumsy, but gentle. “Just this far, and that’s good and safe, and no pressure. And we can sleep it off after and figure out what all else is fine another day.” He smiles reassuringly, a crooked, adoring thing. She’s perfect, really-- perfect for him anyway.

Lup's smile comes back slowly, then all at once, and she presses a kiss to his forehead. "Yeah, okay. Perfect. Good." She lets that thought trail kisses down to his cheek, his jaw. Her lips catch his again, tugging him ever closer, emboldened by a little reassuring communication.

"And you can... push me off and tell me to go to bed whenever, okay? Like, even if I don't do anything wrong, but 'specially if I do. You want this to stop, you'll tell me to fuck right off, promise?" One hand trails lazily over his shoulder to toy with his hair, soft and lazy.

“Promise,” he says. He drinks in her little kisses like water, like he needs them more than anything.

“Same for you, I swear it, okay? I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.” She feels just like home. She feels just like safety. He can’t promise she’ll always be safe from everything on this fucked up journey, but she’ll always be safe with him. He follows her lead, so close now, but so soft. He winds his fingers into her curls and smiles into her kisses.

_ You won't... _ she thinks, but she's already been drawn back in. 

Unfortunately, for as much as communication and breathy kisses can keep a girl going, tequila can only sustain a thirsty make-out for so long. Slowly, inevitably, eyes grow too heavy and wandering hands find their homes for the night. Lup settles against him, close as always, but closer than usual. Her hand finds its way from tangling in his hair to resting on his chest, right next to where her head sits above his heart. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek, and lets the steady thrum of his heartbeat twine with the rumble in her chest.

Barry grins, a sleepy, crooked little thing. She purrs. He smiles. She’s comfortable, happy next to him. How could this be anything but right? They’re exactly where they need to be. Lup’s so warm, and her weight resting on him is a soothing, cozy presence as his eyes drift shut. He wraps his arm around her comfortably.

“Good night, Lup. Sleep well,” he yawns.

They’ll talk. They can talk all day, boundaries, comfort, limits, needs, all of it. But they’re gonna talk, and even that promised first step is heady for Barry. He meant it when he said flexible, but even that needs definition, and doesn’t extend to  _ everything. _ He needs to know where her lines are too, and what she likes...he grins sleepily at the thought of doing exactly what she likes.

He falls into sleep easy, her scent filling his nostrils, her purr knocking him right out, and he doesn’t wake til morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Kiss, kiss, kiSS, KISS, KISS, KISS!  
> SA: See, I *told you guys* the horny music on the playlist would make sense! And listen, I think we're all a little horny for communication ;)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one thing to do when you're invited to a gala.
> 
> That's right, folks, it's time to go shopping!

Lup wakes to a sizeable headache, made all the worse by a ringing she can't quite parse-- Static? No, there's definitely words in there. Probably. Gods, where did they stash the Arcane NSAIDs? She sits up, shaking Barry's shoulder. 

"Bear... Hey, Bear... Is that the hell-speaker? B, wake up..."

“I’m up, I’m up, what is that?” Barry mumbles. He sits up and fumbles for his glasses, head pounding as he tries to focus on the words coming from the speaker.

**“—ness. Repeating, all citizens, please stand by for a message from the Governess.”**

The voice switches to a woman’s, gentle but authoritative, a bit distorted from the speaker.

**“Good morning, everyone. In recognition of the amazing strides in Citizen Flourishing we have made over the past several months, I’m pleased and proud to announce a gala this Saturday evening to celebrate the opening of a new art exhibit entitled Happy Together. All schedules have been cleared for the event, and we look forward to seeing every one of you. Instructions on dress codes and location will be distributed by building leadership. Thank you all for your hard work, and have a joyful day.”**

Barry flops back onto the bed and groans slightly. “Babe, you wanna go to a gala? Like it sounds super mandatory, but, also, a hot date?”

Lup catches every few words, but it's enough to get most of the meaning across. The gala is _soon_. And it sounds like they're all going, like it or not. Might as well like it?

"Hot date indeed." She settles cross-legged beside him _"We can get try the Light, and an excuse to dress up?"_ She smiles, then scrubs at her eyes. " _If we can figure out how to get into the Light's containment, I don't see why we can't have a decent night after, yeah?_ " Sure, they could wallow in being forced into yet another bullshit situation, but Lup's a bit soft from the night before and, yeah, a fancy-shmancy date with her would-be-beau maybe sits a little nicer than it otherwise might with her this morning. She settles back against him, burrowing into his shoulder. "But we can sleep in a bit, right?"

"Gods, yes, I'm nowhere _near_ ready to be vertical. Fuck, I'm not in my twenties anymore, you shoulda seen me then." He wraps his arm around her.

"Mmhmm, what I wouldn't give to see Barold in his _party days_..." she chuckles into his shoulder, prodding at his side. This is comfortable, soft, and maybe it's selfish but Lup latches onto this happiness as tightly as she snuggles up against him.

Barry snorts a little. "Party Barry is _dead,_ metaphorically, and probably lucky not to be literally; hell, regular Barry might've come close, that was a _lot_ of tequila," he jokes.

Eh, maybe she shouldn't have seen him then. Maybe bury the image of (nearly always) mostly-drunk, where's-my-hug frat bro Barry in the distant past. He just wanted people to like him, not that that part has changed significantly. He was never too awful, never hurt anyone beyond a few minor fistfights, never forced himself where he wasn't wanted, but still. Still. He'd smack the kid he was upside the head, sober him up, and give him a Talk™️ if he could.

Plus, it's looking like current him is maybe a lot luckier in love.

Maybe. Hopefully?

_She was still...cool with it,_ **_right??? Oh gods, okay--_**

"Hey, babe...last night was...real fun, for me, was it good for you?"

_Was it good for you?.._ That is... not a phrase she thought she'd be hearing any time soon. "I mean, yeah... we didn't like... No, yeah, that was totally chill, I mean, it was okay with you, right? It, uhh... That doesn't have to happen again, we were deffo drunk, I don't blame you one bit.." _Ohh geez…_

He sighs happily and snuggles a little deeper into the bed. "That's why I wanted to check. I was really into it, still am, but we were drunk so I wanted to make sure you were still okay with it. Just, you know, just making sure. I, uh, I'd like it to happen again, if you would."

There, now some of the hard talking part is done and everyone's chill. This Barry likes. Awkward, bumbling phrasing? Check. Consent still solid and regret minimal? Double check.

"Yeah, that's uhh... yeah." Lup drums her fingers idly on Barry's chest. Yeah, doing that again could be... yeah. "Maybe we... take a nap... deal with this gala _thing_... and then we can talk about a next time?" Gods, she wants that next time to be here and now, well... okay maybe post-nap, but sooner rather than later. She doesn't blame Barry for wanting to blow off steam, not in the slightest. Fifteen years give-or-take of running, paired with plenty to drink and a warm friend? Hell, she'd fallen for it, hook line and messy, heady sinker. And she'd fall again in a heartbeat. 

Her hand settles to trace slow circles on his chest. This could be okay. Good even. No strings, just... two good friends, _best_ friends even, doing-- on occasion-- what consenting friends do. And Lup will take it. Because regardless of how, she knows Barry cares. She trusts him, explicitly. If anyone could make something like this work, it might even be them. 

She can feel the rumble in her chest starting up again. The headache will fade, the gala and the heist-in-the-making will pass. But at least until the end of the year, she can come back to this each night.

"Definitely a nap first, agreed, and then...oh gods, I'm really gonna turn my wife loose to go dress shopping, huh? The bills, babe, I'm already shaking in my boots," he teases.

He turns to kiss her forehead. "You'll be so pretty though, worth it."

He'll have to, what, probably rent a tux, huh? That should be pretty straightforward, he's done it a time or two for weddings and such. They'll probably have dancing and weird finger food and gods know what the art exhibit will be like. This all sounds too rich for his blood, but they could very well walk out of it with the Light, and surely Lup will shine in the middle of it all.

And then afterwards they can have a Talk™️. About maybe possibly...fucking is accurate, but sounds too harsh and crass for what he wants with her. 'Making love' sounds like something grandparents do once a week out of habit. But sex, maybe just having sex, meeting each other's needs, like they do in so many other ways. Hell, they meet almost every other need they each have, practically speaking; companionship, collaboration, shoulder to cry on, cheerleader. Why not this?

He closes his eyes, leaning his head against hers. Nap first.

Barry's words, a gentle kiss pressed to her hair, it all has her melting for a moment. Just for a moment, though. Because this, all of this, is... simple. It's soft, and sweet, and fun, but it's not _real_ . It can't be. Because real is complex and messy and when the world ends every year and _that_ just might go on for eternity there isn't room for messy. And that's okay. It has to be. 

They'll talk. And maybe they'll get a little closer to real, and maybe they won't. But whatever they end up agreeing on, it'll be them. And that's enough for Lup.

\--

Dress shopping, it seems, waits for no elf. At least, not when one Taako Tacco takes the helm. There's a sharp knock at the door, followed by another, followed by the pitched-up Prestidigitated call of, " **_LUP! This is a matter of NATIONAL SECURITY, I Swear To Istus, Get UP!_ **"

“Babe...Lup, babe, get up, Taako’s beating the door down,” Barry says, nudging her a little, though he’s pretty sure she’s awake. “He said national security, so probably shopping time.” He smiles sleepily.

He’ll get up too. Get that tux handled. Talk to the building folks and get details for the gala. He should take Magnus with him, before the boy gets some sort of sleeveless nonsense and Taako just up and asks for rematching. He stretches a little. A glass of water first though, for sure.

"Okay, okay, **Coming!** Jesus Fantasy Christ..." Lup pulls herself dramatically from the bed, yawning and stretching on her way to get the door. "You realise you're just harassing Barry, right? Come _in_ , Goofus," she holds the door, then heads to the kitchen. "Coulda at least picked the lock and made your darling sister _coffee_ if you're gonna yell to wake the dead."

Taako snorts, draping himself over the counter. "And interrupt whatever you two were up to? Fat chance." He gives her a pointed once over, "By the look of those pee-jays, I'd say I made the right choice."

Lup smacks his shoulder. "Bear! Coffee? You're coming, yeah?"

Barry wanders out into the living room. “Coffee, yes, I’m up, I’m coming, babe. Morning, Taako,” he yawns. “I take it you heard about the gala? Better get rolling on that, it’s already Wednesday.”

“This is crunch time, this is a formalwear emergency situation! Will we pull it off, absolutely, hell yes, but we are gonna be down! To! The wire! Barold,” Taako looks at him, face begging to be reassured that he’s not about to hear about anything called a _juxedo._

Barry takes the mug of coffee from Lup. “Thanks, babe. You want me to take Mags and get fitted for tuxes, bud?”

"Yes! _Gods_ , would you? I trust none of you himbos to dress a man for elegance, but at least I know you know what a _fucking suit is_ . The only other guy here worth his weight in satin is _Dav_ , and he's just wearing his dress whites! Won't even enter _tain_ the thought of shopping!" He huffs dramatically, "If he wasn't Captain..."

"Taako, I don't think you understand the meaning of _himbo_..."

"And you don't understand _emergency_ , can we gooooo?" Taako snaps, and a cupboard opens, dropping a travel mug in each hand. 

He's all talk. Lup can see the tell-tale giddy swish in his tail; with all the stress the Fantasy Hell-lexa speakers have wrought, he's absolutely ecstatic to have a problem he knows how to solve. This is stress, but it's the kind that can be calmed with fancy dresses and brunch. So yeah, Lup'll play ball. 

Barry chuckles into his coffee and takes a sip. He sets the mug back on the counter. "Sure thing, I'm no expert, but I know how to find an expert and stand still for measurements," he says.

The twins are positively vibrating with excitement, good. They deserve fun! They deserve to dress up and dance and eat fancy food and look at whatever art pieces this whole thing's about and then come home and smooch their hot partners until they fall asleep.

"Milk, no sugar-- Let me throw some pants on." Lup rolls her eyes, all show too, tossing Barry a wink as she heads back to the bedroom. "I'll snag you a tie; gotta match, right?"

Barry grins like a fool at Lup's comment. They'll _match,_ like a set, everyone will know they belong together. He hasn't thought about this type of thing since, when, highschool? "Definitely, gotta match for sure. I'm a winter, so just bear that in mind, babe," he teases with a wink. Taako bursts out laughing.

Lup returns not five minutes later, absolutely _not_ wearing pants. But a big slouchy shirt-dress is much easier for a day spent taking fancy gowns on and off. Makeup can eat a bag of dicks at this hour, but maybe that's the mild hangover's words. She pops an aspirin with her coffee, and that's Lup ready to go. 

"See you for dinner, hun. Have fun, and _please_ don't let Mags go sleeveless. _Please_." She gives him a peck on the cheek before Taako can whisk her out the door. 

\--

Once the twins are well out of earshot-- and eyeshot-- Lup taps her brother's shoulder. " _Sooooo, how's the fake boyfriend sitch hangin'? Can't say I expected boxers on the floor to be a forgivable offence._ "

" _It's good, it's good. You know he's figured out exactly how to make me forget alllll about where the boxers are in favor of where they're not,_ " Taako answers with a wink.

" _What about you and your knight in shining denim? Those were some cute little things you had on._ " He nudges her arm and raises an eyebrow. " _Margaritas suit y'all, huh?_ "

" _Haha, good goof Dingus._ " She snorts, " _What can I say, they're comfy! They're just... pajamas, y'know, nothing... nothing of it."_ Gods, there's no way to hide a blush like that from Ko. Dammit. 

" _Okay so like. Maybe_ something _of it. But we were drunk, and it was just... a kiss... or... several. Gods, that's awful, that's so uncool, right?"_ She palms her face with a laugh, displacing her glasses. Not that she cares much. It's her brother, he'd understand, right? " _You just... ya get two friends this close for this long and... like, it had to happen eventually, right?_ "

Taako looks at her strangely, then stops them both in their tracks and turns, hands on her shoulders. " _Hold on,_ " he signs. " _Just a kiss or several? That does tend to happen when you're...Lup are you two not...you've been doing it on the low since Fungston, minimum, right, probably way earlier? I caught you in bed together; you mean to tell me you're not gettin' it on with this boy?_ " Taako's face is a picture of bafflement.

"Taako!" _What?_ He? Her own brother? Thinks they've been? _What??_

" _No, dude, we're like? Friends? What do you mean caught us in bed?? I mean we've like... We've hung out? And like... friends can just like... Like you haven't been snuggling up with Mags for years-- OHH MY GODS ARE YOU FUCKING MAGNUS??"_ Lup's mouth hangs open in amused bafflement. " _Oh my gods, you are! And you didn't_ tell me? _Your dearest darlingest sister? KO!"_

“ _Okay, so taking those in order,_ ” Taako replies. “ _You were literally in his actual bed back on the mushroom one, I just assumed...look, it’s for all the world seemed like that was going on for a hot minute. Secondly, not that we’re interrogating me here, but of course I am, I assumed you knew this._ ”

Lup balks. " _He was sick! I was keeping him company! We were hanging! It's not like we had the sofa then!"_ Gods, they've just been. Straight up boning. Like that wasn't the kind of thing that ruined friendships, not to mention workplace environments. And they were? Chill? Still?

" _Okay okay okay, hold up. Now we Are interrogating you. 1: since When??? 2: What the hell??? 3: and yall are just? It's not weird? Are yall like an item now? What???"_

“ _How long have we been here? 8 months? 9? How is this weird—it’s weirder that you two aren’t! Like okay, fair point the boy was sick that time, but Lulu, he ain’t always sick. You two look like you’ve been—you mean all this time, being all couple-like even when it’s just us? What, that’s just method acting? Seriously?_ ” Taako asked.

Her lips stutter for an answer even as she doesn't use them to respond. Her hands fumble too, " _I-- the speakers? We're just... y'know... We gotta... We gotta keep up the whole thing! Don't-- Don't talk to me about Method Acting when you're Actively Fucking Your Fake Husband! What do you call that!"_

“ _I call it a good time is what I call it,_ ” Taako answers with a smirk. “ _But for real, you don’t have to fuck the jeans man if you don’t want to, I’m just surprised you’re not. You know the speakers can’t pick up the way you two look at each other, right?_ ”

" _I-- We don't--"_ She runs a hand through her hair. Do they? It's just force of habit at this point, surely. Having to keep a façade in public is easier when it's an all-the-time thing, right? That's what she's been telling herself, when she's been telling herself anything. What other explanation was there? 

" _I mean, a gal could stand to get laid, obvi, but like. We're not. And don't think I'm letting this go, are y’all for real? Outside of this ‘good time’, what's going on with you two? You have to spill, Ko."_ Lup diverts, hopeful. Hopeful that Taako will take the bait, and she can process _that_ . And maybe also a little hopeful that something real _could_ be happening in this cyclical apocalypse.

“ _What’s going on with us is exactly what it looks like. Out of the limited dating options that don’t get left behind every year, this boy’s chill and Taako likey. We’re all adults, it’s fine. It seems like a lot less work than your thing—wait a minute. Is it him? Did he like draw a line or something?_ ”

" _What-- no, no. He didn't, we didn't. It's just... not like that. Simple as that."_ She shrugs, carrying on down the sidewalk, willing her ears not to droop at actually saying as much out loud.

She can't just tell him that no, it's not as simple as see it, like it, got it. But hadn't he done exactly that? And if she's to believe her brother, which of _course_ she is, it had worked out well so far. 

Then there's the fact that _so far_ was hardly a year. By the looks of the mission, that was _nothing_ . Lup's not one to assume the worst when it comes to love ~~okay maybe she is~~ , but these are people, friends she's known and cared for for the better part of two decades. Even the _possibility_ that her selfish wants would hurt them, hurt _Barry_? It's too big a risk. 

Taako gives her an appraising look. “ _Okay. If you say so; it’s your decision. But, for what it’s worth? I’d kick the ass of most folks who looked twice at you, same as you’d do for me. Most of them aren’t worth it. But Barold...? He seems like a good guy._ ” He pauses. “ _You ready to see what this plane calls fashion?_ ”

" _And if Mags makes you happy, I will refrain from kicking that ass. I'll leave that to you."_ He does seem like a good guy, huh. Even Taako can see as much, and that puts a little smile on her face. Barry's proven to be every bit as good and caring as he appears in Lup's experience. Which is exactly why she can't go hurting him like that. 

She gives Taako a wink and takes his arm. " _Let's. I'm thinking something gold, you?"_

“ _Mmm, thinking plum, or wine even,_ ” Taako answers, returning her wink. “ _But like, shimmery. Beaded, maybe, something with detail, and a nice high side slit._ ”

"Gotta give the people what they want, natch." Lup ducks them into a little boutique, and they are _definitely_ not the only ones who thought to get their gown shopping done early. "Yeesh, let the games begin..."

The place is packed, display racks and mannequins mobbed by shoppers. Taako scans for colors, then grabs a dress off a rack, holding it up to Lup critically. “Nah,” he decides, putting it back. “We’ve got our work cut out for us,” he says.

"But make it work we shall. Ohh, is tulle too much?" She pulls several numbers, all in varying jewel tones. "We can alter them, absolutely, but like, as a base for further chaos? I'm seeing the plum. I'm seeing it, and I'm needing velvet. If you can get Mags in some jewellery? Some golds, some emeralds with this?" She signs a chef kiss. "I will die and the two of you will have killed me."

“Ooh, yes yes, hmmm, maybe some fancy cuff links for my boy,” Taako muses. “I think we can make that work-- as for _you_ ,” he glances around the boutique. “Thinking gold? Might I counter with _white?_ ” He holds up a white dress. 

"You _may..._ " She grins, holding the piece up to her. Definitely worth a try on; comfy fabric, _that slit_. 

“Eye-catching. Bold. _Risky_ , tee bee aitch, with food in the mix, but it’s not gonna wear you, you know?” Taako appraises.

"Hell yeah. You think gold on the accessories then? It's giving me bold white, so I'm saying-- and this is buckwild, I know-- no glitter. Dainty and simple, so as not to compete, y'feel? Be easy to find something matchy for Barold." He'll clean up nice, she thinks, in a simple, classic tux. Let the two of them stand out for simplicity's sake. And something simple, whilst heisting? Probably not a bad idea. 

“Mmm, y’know I can see it? Gold accessories, yeah, I kinda like it,” he says. “Barold’s kinda simple, aesthetically, that tracks.”

"Comeon, It's Pretty Woman™️ time. I wanna see your butt in velvet ay-sap." Lup snatches his arm, tugging him to the wall of curtains and mirrors, snatching only a _few_ other pretty little numbers along the way.

Taako picks up a handful of the top choices and follows her to start trying them on. He starts changing into the first dress, then peeks out. “Wanna get this zipper?”

"If you get mine, course." Lup smooths the fabric over his shoulders. "Turn, lemme see... Uhh-huh... Dig the colour, dig the shape, but that fabric sits weird. I'm all for pleats, but thats a better art piece than it is a gown, y'know?" She tsks. It looked so pretty on the rack. There's always some better suited for that. 

“Yeah, I’m with you, this part doesn’t—yeah, no.”

Lup turns to be zipped. "I feel like a businesself. Like one a those sexy CEO types in films? Is it too stiff-looking?"

He zips her up and steps back. “Okay, this? This I like, the way the neckline does this?” He gestures, showing the line. “That’s real good, and I don’t think it’s too stiff. Thinking gold heels to go with?”

"Yeah, somethin' strappy, do some little hoops and stuff," She gestures to her ears, "You think this'll do? Got it in one?" She does a little turn, catching herself in the line of mirrors. Sleek mod lines is a new but _primo_ look on Lup. "Ooooh, no, yeah. This is good. This is _very_ good. Very Old HollyWood. Okay, okay, still gotta try the others, just in case. Lemme unzip ya..."

“Oooh, strappy’ll be good, love that.” He turns to let her unzip him, then unzips her too and starts changing into the next dress.

“Okay, so this sits better _here_ , what am I looking at with the shoulders though? Thoughts?”

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes. That collar? Very haute couture." She reaches for a shoulder, tucking the the would-be cap sleeve under. "Ooooh, okay, we take these sleeves back a bit? Let it just end at the shoulder there? That's _regal_ my guy. Turn, turn." She spins her finger, hands clasped in front of her mouth. "Hell yeah. Does it feel good? Comfy, sits well?" 

If Magnus has already succumbed to Taako's particular wiles, he's gonna be a dead man walking when he sees this number. Lup chuckles; probably for the best she's sticking to jersey, for everyone else's sake. A single plane can only take so much of the Tacco Twins™️™️™️.

“Okay, yeah, hell yeah, with the sleeve like that? This is the one. Just gotta get to work on shoes...hair...makeup, we’ve got this in the bag. Gods, finally a chance to dress up, _finally,_ ” he says.

“Finally!” She laughs, taking a step back to get a good proper look. She closes her eyes gesturing dramatically. “I’m seeing... gold, but also emeralds? For you and Mags both, get the kid some pretty cuffs, pretty tie pin or something? Hmmmmmm hair hair hair.... Either? High pony, lotsa jewels all up in there. Or! Or just do it straight and slicked back and stuff? Y'know what I mean?” She steps behind him, pulling his hair to the back. Peeking over his shoulder to the mirror, yeah, that’s a look. “Yeah, with a high neck like that you wanna go simple with the hair. Then you can go heavy on the smokey eye! Boom.” She reaches over for a high-five.

Taako high-fives her, then whirls around behind her to dramatically center her in the mirror. "For you? Love the gold hoops, and you're right about that Old Hollywood vibe, what about hair like, classic curls, side part? Lean into it, you know, and! Eyeliner sharp enough to cut yourself on, classic red lip. Timeless."

“Timeless, classic, I love it. You’ll do the pin curls for me?” She turns, smile fixed at her brother. Gods, it’s been too long, huh? Since they’d gotten properly gussied up and glammed for a real fancy event. Yeah, there’s ulterior motive, yeah, there’s a bit of a heist vibe to it all, but that’s just. Icing! Right? Adds to the... the film-style drama of it all. 

“Let’s go find some matching bits for our boys, then we’re home free, yeah? We’ve got a _lot_ of planning to get done.” Lup gives him a look that tells him to read into that one. Prying ears and all.

“‘Course I’ll do ‘em, you know I kick ass at those. Unless you want _Barold_ to try his hand at it,” he says with an arch smile. He pokes her arm.

Lup grins at the jab, "Hey, maybe I will. Need to ask the guy where he went to Hair School cause like. Hasn't let me down with a braid yet." She laughs, picking their bags up from the counter. 

“I’m just givin’ you shit. You thinking gold tie pin, maybe gold cuff links for Barold? Same with emeralds for Mags. That’s gonna be so fuckin’ choice. I’m tempted to believe Mags’ll even get properly fitted since Barold’s taking him, hell yes!”

"For real though, we're not letting them help us get ready, are you _kidding_? Gotta save that juicy shock value, right?" Lup takes his arm in a sort of sideways hug.

“Of _course_ we gotta do the Reveal™️! I can’t wait, we’re gonna steal these boys’ breath,” he says smugly.

"Wait wait wait... You think Mags'd let you do _his_ hair? Put something sparkly in there, he's got the length for it. I think yeah, Bear and I'll keep it classy... Hmm, black tie or red? To match the lipstick, of course."

Taako gasps. “Sparkly things in _my boy’s_ hair, yes _yes,_ hmmm,” he says. “For Barold though, what about classic black? If you want him wearing red, well,” he winks and makes a kissy face. “You know what to do.”

Lup snorts, "Mhm, gotta show this gala just how Unified™️ we are, ey? That being the name of the game and all." 

They traipse through a haberdashery, and then a proper jewellers when the selection isn't quite sparkly enough for Taako. Lup's able to find nearly everything in one go; she's got dainty hoops for days, cufflinks in a matching black and gold are simple enough to find. They gawk over pretty green things, some cufflinks and hairpins, and it's looking like they might even beat the boys home. 

The twins are just about headed home, arms full of their spoils, when the window of a little boutique catches her eye. She presses her hands to the glass, and makes a quick Sending to Barry. 

" _Hey, Bear? Don't worry about your tie, I gotchu. Be home soon!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Time for fashion, everybody! Gotta get all dressed up for a night of dancing. It's super mandatory!  
> Also [this](https://twitter.com/iheartradio/status/1130942087908610048?s=21)
> 
> SA: Physically I am posting this chapter, but emotionally I am a lyric video for Taylor Swift's "Style".


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the big night. Time for the gala!
> 
> Just a beautiful night out dancing... and totally not anything suspicious, no heist or anything, of course.
> 
> Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter and the next couple were written last November before the protests in the US, annnnnd they hit different now in a way that could be upsetting. While this portion of the story was not written to reflect current events, it's important to acknowledge the elements that are in common: seeking power without the balance and wisdom found in community leads to violence and pain.  
> Please please please read the tags and take care of your mental and emotional health here. We love you!
> 
> As for real-life; educate yourself, protest, vote, and donate if you can. 
> 
> [Resources](https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/)

The next three days passed in the slowest whirlwind Barry had ever experienced. The tuxes were fitted and sent for alterations, and Lup, Taako, Lucretia, and Olivia were up to their eyeballs in all kinds of fancy fabrics Barry wasn't 100% confident he could name. The sheer volume of sparkly items would've delighted a magpie. Barry was content to be firmly and good-naturedly shooed from peeking at the progress.

Barry fell into bed beside Lup each night, tired bodies snuggling close. After the gala, they agreed, as soon as the Light was safely stowed out of reach of the citizens here, they'd have a talk. About more. About what they wanted to happen in that bed.

Barry was counting the moments.

And all of that has led up to now, to waiting nervously in their living room, decked out in a tux, sans tie, waiting to see Lup come out of the bedroom in all her gala-bound glory.

Barry is counting the seconds.

The twins have had their work cut out for them, everything from hair and makeup to nails and shoes down to the strictest science. The morning of the gala is spent shooing the boys from one apartment into another, going over the final touches on heist plans and hairdos. 

Given Olivia's advice vis a vis the structure of the Gala, the crew had decided on a two-fold approach. Well, really a three-fold, the third being the remaining schmoozing and making excuses for why one lovely local and three of the fine aliens-and-bringers-of-the-Light were off somewhere, not here, don't worry about it. Folds one and two, of course, would be helmed by exactly one competent alien woman each. Lucretia and Olivia should be able to sneak from the tented City Park into the judicial offices, and Lup and Barry would make for the labs. According to Olivia, both offices are connected, and at the very least one of the duos would be able to reach the containment lab. Barry and Lup had, thankfully, spent enough time around containment that they'd been able to glean where  _ someone _ kept their  _ keycard _ in their  _ unlocked lab coat _ , and really, the guy should be fired for more than protocol violations anyway. 

And, if it came down to hostility like Dusk? Well, they just wouldn't let it. The Starblaster was safely stowed and ready outside of town if they needed to run, Olivia was well aware of the risks of her being caught, but that  _ wasn't going to happen _ . Lup finesses the last flick of a cat-eye and lets out a controlled breath. They've got this. 

Taako sprays his slicked-straight locks back, and turns for Lup's curls. "Incoming, eyes closed!" Lup coughs dramatically, patting down a few stray hairs. Perfect. She buckles her shoes and stands, unable to help a grin at the two of them, rightly in their element. 

She tucks her wand into her garter, and picks up a little box from the vanity. "Let's show these boys how we do."

As Lup walks in, Barry can’t help but just...look, face beaming with what he knows is a silly, besotted grin. She's--she's a vision. She’s perfect. The white dress clings softly to her form, elegant in its simplicity, pulling his eyes to her face, all red lips and classy curls. She looks like a movie star, tall and sexy and glamorous, like she'd be the most beautiful woman in any room. And she’s going to the gala with him.

He takes note of the box in her hands as he blushes and struggles to remember that probably Elvish wedding traditions are different, and white just looks good on her, surely that’s it. 

Gods, he's in love. He's so fucking in love with her he can hardly stand it.

"Lup--you look so beautiful," he manages reverently, after a moment.

Lup's curls bounce with a laugh, and she shares a look with Taako. "Thank you for noticing." 

Taako gives a wink and a wave, and heads off to give his own date a heart attack.

Gods, he really is a handsome guy, huh? All clean lines on the suit and a nigh sexy shadow of stubble that she recalls the feeling of all too well. Maybe tomorrow, after all of this nonsense is over and dealt with, and they've had a chance to breathe, to talk... Maybe then they can replay that memory. Maybe with some...  _ variations _ on a theme. 

She steps up, heels setting her perfectly at his level, and offers the little wooden box. "I promised you accessories, and I never disappoint. Go on." She nods at the box, twice as excited by giving a good gift as receiving.

He takes the box, opening it up. Nestled inside is a bowtie, black with gold accents on the corners, and settled in the center of the bow two little golden lovebirds, beaks touching gently as they sit on an ornate scroll. It's fancy, but it's not over the top. The gold matches her gold accessories perfectly.

The little birds look so happy together, like they were meant to be. They’re a matched set. Barry smiles.

"Lup," he says in wonder, "this is perfect. I love it, thank you. We're not too fancied-up to hug, are we?" He chuckles.

Lup practically beams, "'Course not, nerd." She wraps her arms around him, only light enough to not wrinkle up his tux.

"Ohh, and there's the cufflinks, but the bow's way cooler. Here," She lets him go, just enough to hold out a hand for the bowtie. "Let me do it up. 'S got one of those clips in the back; can't really tie one like this I guess." 

She hooks the clasp and settles his collar back how it belongs, giving him a long, satisfied once-over. "Perfect. You clean up nice, Bluejeans."

"So do you, Mrs. Bluejeans," he teases. He holds out his wrist for the cufflinks, letting her help him fasten them into place. He examines them. "Ooh, very nice," he says. "I like them! Shall we away to the gala, my darling?" He holds out an arm for her to take.

Gods, he cannot wait to have this over with. He's gonna spoil this woman rotten. He has so many ideas. He'll make her moan his name til the neighbors complain about it.

Soon. Tomorrow, ideally. So close, just hang in there.

Lup takes his arm, "Let's." And they head out to meet the others, and enact the greatest heist this plane has ever seen. Hopefully.

\--

As they arrive at City Park, Barry can't help but be impressed. These folks certainly know how to throw a nice party, even with the minimalism that's their usual way. A dance floor has been laid down, and a giant tent erected, hung with sparkly fairy lights inside. Tables groan with food and drink, and Barry can see Taako eyeing it over.

Barry walks into the tent, Lup by his side, smiling. Nothing to see here. Just the aliens, showing up to dance and such.

And of course by  _ and such, _ he means get the Light back. Of course.

The park is  _ packed _ , every eye in the place reflecting glittery lights and happiness. Lup is absolutely ready to join them. Even if there's a mission, half of the job is blending in. Which means having a grand ol' time, right?

"You gonna stand there gawkin' or come dance with me, dear?" She steps out to the dance floor, pulling him along with a smile. By the look of those already dancing, it's a bit of a slower number, and that works just fine for her. She twirls, tugging him in close and settling a hand on his shoulder. "Can I trust you to lead?"

He follows her out onto the dance floor, the gentle piano riff weaving through the air around them. He sets a hand at her waist and smiles, the two of them so close.

“Yes, you can trust me,” he says. She can, not just to lead this dance, and he trusts her too, with everything he is, he realizes.

He listens to the music, settles them into its rhythm as the singer gently croons:

“ _ Oh, my love _

_ My darling _

_ I’ve hungered for your touch _

_ A long, lonely time... _ ”

A faint blush tinges Barry’s cheeks. This is a dream come true. And maybe it’s okay to just let this be what it looks like, just until the song ends.

As if her trust was ever in question. It's so easy to be swept away in Barry's arms, and she takes to it willingly. It's a love song, probably, of course. She catches bits of the piano refrain, soft and pretty, and if her mind wasn't a million places right now, maybe she'd take the time to figure out the actual lyrics. But the look on Barry's face is telling enough. Always been a softie, her man. 

Well, for now. Maybe, after a lot of talking and a bit of espionage, he'd be something a bit closer to  _ really  _ hers. Maybe, when they figure out how to fix  _ everything _ ... Lup smiles. It's an impossible ask, but  _ maybe _ . 

"Didn't know you could dance like this, Bear. Bravo." She presses a kiss to his cheek, for the crowd. Mostly.

Barry’s blush deepens with her kiss. “I can dance like this, just, uh, not a lot of the other ways. It’s a good way to get to hold the prettiest person in the room, though,” he says.

Her eyes are so beautiful, reflecting the twinkling lights, big and intense. She’s done something, makeup or magic or both, that makes them more so tonight, but Barry knows they’d be just as beautiful as an anchor in the darkness or the first thing he sees in the morning. He knows that from experience, and he’ll never get over how lucky he is.

He’s nervous. He’s always nervous, about nearly everything, true, but he’s nervous about tonight, and then tomorrow. What if something happens as they try to get the Light back? They can’t count on another chance if they’re foiled.

And tomorrow? Okay, he’s nervous about doing...whatever this talk is, hashing out what they want, whatever that’s called, with Lup. But she wouldn’t set him up like this to totally yank the rug and say no, she wants nothing, right? He has to believe she’d’ve just been upfront. He trusts her too much to believe she’d lead him on. So something, then; not nothing, hope, and Barry will take what he can get, is the thing. He trusts her not to be cruel, even if talking is hard.

They dance along with the music and into a more open space on the floor. Barry loosens up on her waist. “Spin?” he says, grinning broadly as he leads her into it.

Lup can only bite her lip and nod before she's twirling out, watching the pretty gowns and dancing lights and  _ Barry _ , smiling out at her. A gentle tug has her spinning back, falling against him like coming home. The flickers of feelings she's been trying to stamp out all coalesce here, wrapped in his arms, pressed flush against him. Lup's a goner. 

She's never denied it, not to herself, that maybe she liked him. There were feelings there, they'd been there for a while now. It just... wasn't important  _ what _ they were. Because, she's told herself a million times before, it can't work between them. Not like this, not in the way that she wants it to. And with their Talk™️ looming on the horizon of this heist, Lup had thought, had hoped, that whatever that amounted to would be enough. 

She knows now that it won't be. She likes him, of course, but she knows now that she  _ loves _ him, too. 

She twists out to face him, hand never leaving his. She could tell him. She  _ should _ . After tonight is over, when they have time to think. To talk. Then she can. For now, she settles her hand back on his shoulder, her forehead against his, and lets him sweep her off her feet.

Gods,  _ gods, _ she’s  _ stunning! _

The sight of Lup at home had been one thing, and dancing with her here still another, but the sight of her now, spinning around, confident even in those heels, letting Barry show her off...

That could be his life’s mission, now, showing her off. He could just always be there, ready to support her and draw attention to her beauty and brilliance. He could hold her up and let her shine. He could be...he could be her accompanist. Maybe, if she’ll have him?

As she leans her forehead against his, he chuckles. “I should’ve been taking you out dancing this whole year, babe, this is so much fun!”

Lup laughs in return, "Yeah, what gives? You thought I couldn't dance, or?" To be fair, if he'd been using her early-morning-kitchen-dancing as reference, she wouldn't blame him. But that's different, right?

She catches a whirl of velvet to the side; looks like Taako stopped critiquing the spread in favour of teaching Magnus what a box-waltz looks like. A valiant effort, indeed. It looks like they're having fun, though, even as Taako has to yank away a heel from being stepped on. They look cute, comfortable together, and Lup hopes that's how it really is for them, showmanship be damned. 

“Just shy, I guess. Silly, right, with you my wife and all? But I’ll make it up to you. You deserve a thousand nights out dancing,” Barry says.

"Damn right I do. I'll hold you to that." Her nose scrunches with a laugh. Regardless of what they are, what they decide to be, she can't say no to dancing. Especially if it's with him. 

"Maybe when you get around to takin' me out, I'll teach you something a bit faster, hmm? I think you just might be able to keep up." She winks, sliding her arms around his shoulders as the soft song comes to an end.

There are so many couples, everyone in town, and some are their best friends but Barry can’t bring himself to think of anyone but the two of them. This is what they deserve, dancing close, twirling and having fun, celebrating.

“I’d love that, always love learning from you,” he says. 

He gives her a gentle peck on the nose as he sees Lucretia and Olivia discreetly make their way toward a door in the long, curving building. “Ready to do this, babe?” he asks.

Lup follows his eyes out over the sea of people, and sees what he means. A dash of lilac and silver, their smiles visible even at a distance, making for a set of doors. Go time. 

She presses a kiss to the corner of Barry's mouth, and pulls back with a wicked look in her eyes. "Hell yeah. What say we find someplace a little more... private?" Her hand finds his, leading him through the crowd.

_ Gods, does he want that _ but there's a job to do, and her words are for those nearby. He takes her hand and follows her through the crowd.

No one will follow them, it'll be fine. They'll get in, get the Light, get out, stash it, be back before the party's over. Out of the corner of his eye, Barry can see the Governess step up onto the stage and stand before the massive curtain, partygoers turning their attention toward her. Excellent, if she makes a speech it should pull focus from their exit, Barry thinks as they slowly wind through the crowd toward the lab.

"Good evening, everyone, and thank you so much for joining us tonight as we celebrate each other. We call the bond between partners many things: harmony, unity, togetherness, teamwork, love. It is these bonds that allow us to flourish, yes?" A few people in the crowd nod and murmur in agreement.

"Tonight, we celebrate. Our society has made such strides in facilitating these connections between us. We're happier than ever! And so tonight, it is my honor to unveil a new art exhibit, here on permanent display to remind us all of what we share. Citizens, friends, without further ado, I give you: Happy Together."

The curtain drops, revealing statues--ten feet high, easily, with blank, featureless faces, some in plain shirts and pants and others in long white dresses, all arranged in couples. Some embrace, some are dancing together, some share a tender moment, but the thing that sticks out to Barry about all of them is that they are all  _ deeply _ unsettling.

He glances at Lup to see her reaction. He likes this woman in a white dress way better than any of those, thing is? She not only  _ has _ a face, it's a beautiful face, one he'll have more time to appreciate if they can get ahold of the Light and stop these folks from making weird-ass statues and horrifying speakers.

Lup can't stop to be horrified, but  _ gods does her body want to _ . Nearly twice the size of anyone in attendance, towering, faceless, and did they  _ really _ have to take this classy white moment from her? That's just rude. 

She tears her eyes away from the festivities, pulling Barry into a doorway. The layout of the laboratories is familiar; clinical, still, but the kind she's had months to grow accustomed to on her own terms. The halls look to be empty, but a quiet approach is still best. " _ Hear anything? Engineering hall's gotta be the fastest, yeah?" _

Barry glances around. " _ I don't hear anyone, they must all be out there looking at the statues...gods, they're a lot, huh? Let's try engineering and then cut right through...yeah that's best, _ " he agrees.

They head off, sticking close and quiet. No need to attract any unwanted attention. Even if Barry was a little distracted by the peeps of leg that slit afforded him. You know what? Put it in the talk tomorrow, she bought the dress, right? Maybe she'll wear it again sometime, let him take her out then home and appreciate it more thoroughly.

She nods,  _ "Could've at least put some faces on there. They're a nice distraction, I'll give 'em that. _ " She takes his hand, sidling down the long hall towards the labs proper. Luckily, they seem to be the only couple having the idea of a saucy mid-gala rendezvous. Or at least, the only one that hasn't found a quiet corner yet. 

How fun would it be, Lup wonders, to be here with no agenda other than being wooed by her man and whisking him off to some dim hallway to show him a thing or two about  _ unity _ . Another time. Soon, maybe. She grins at the thought, peeking through a doorway and pulling him in.

Barry follows her through the door. “ _ That’s for sure, like I suppose the concept is nice? But those are way too big, and a smile never hurt anyone, right? _ ”

They creep across the lab to another door, past work tables and equipment. They’re almost there when Barry freezes and taps Lup’s arm. “ _ Footsteps in the hallway, hide! _ ” He pulls them both into a closet, hoping against hope they weren’t heard.

Lup whips around, only to be pulled full force into the dark. A blink, and her eyes adjust,  _ a closet? _ Kinky. 

She takes Barry's hands, signing against them and hoping he can catch what she means in the dim light.  _ What did you sign? Is someone out there? _ Her breath stays shallow and quiet  hopefully quiet . They're so close, only a few doors from containment. Lup crosses her fingers, hopes that Istus would have them save the Light.

“ _ Footsteps in the hallway. I think we were quick enough— _ ” Shit, it’s  _ dark _ in here, and he’s not so much catching what she signs as guessing she wants an explanation for this tomfoolery. He tries to steady his breath, she’s here, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s dark but Lup’s here and it’s just them, it’s fine, they’re safe.

He hears a door rattle—the lab door they were going for,  _ shit. _ “Hey, Kevin, you have the code for this one?” he hears. “The engineering—yeah thought I heard something in there—seriously? Ugh, okay, I’ll stay here, but tell her to get down here, I’ve still gotta check the rest.”

_ Shit. _ They have a minute, but no escape. That guard’s gonna come in and find them holed up in a closet in the wrong lab without a fucking alibi, unless—

They had an alibi, possibly. His cheeks go redder still.

“ _ The guard’s at the door, someone’s bringing the code. They can’t find us here without a reason, _ ” he signs. He trusts her, he trusts her, please oh please go along with it...

“ _ Moan like we snuck off to—you know—if they ask it was all so romantic we couldn’t wait, _ ” he signs quickly.

_ Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck... ohh. _

Okay.

Lup stifles a giggle at his suggestion, and reaches her arms up over his shoulders. "Just in case, right?" she whispers against his ear, letting that stifled giggle ring a little louder. If they're gonna pull this off, and they  _ will _ pull this off, they're going to have to sell it. She hikes a leg around his, falling against him as quietly as she can manage, dropping her voice to a sultry gravel, "You gonna help me out here, darling?" She winks, hoping at least that much comes across in the dark. 

He pulls her against him,  _ just in case, _ of course  _ just in case, _ good.

“Fuck yes, I’ve been waiting all night,” he says, letting out just a few of those Inside Thoughts™️ flitting through his mind. If they make it convincingly sound like he’s about to get sexy with his beautiful wife in a supply closet at the unity gala, so much the better.

“Seeing you in that dress, surprised we made it out the door,” he says, giddy and breathless, half a whisper as he hears the lab door open. If they’re gonna get caught, they’re gonna get caught doing this, not jeopardizing the girls’ chance. Maybe they’ll pull the guards’ focus?

"Aida! Yeah, just this one. Thought I heard something, can you just-- thanks, yep. Just gonna check the lab out then you can lock 'er back up." The door from the lab hisses open, footsteps clicking on tile just outside. 

Lup catches the sound of a voice in the room, and puts the show in full gear. All breathy laughs and soft moans caught between them. It's not the time nor the place for thoughts of  _ later _ , but she absolutely understands now the thrill that would lead others to their position. She's a simple girl, with simple needs, and getting caught in a supply closet? Kinda hot.

"Wha--" There's a softer click, a knock on the closet door. "No one's authorised to be in here tonight-- Come out with your hands up!"

There's a beat, and the door opens, and Lup drags Barry's lips to hers.

He jumps slightly at the knock on the door, and falls into the kiss, hands wandering where they want,  _ gods do they want, _ as the door opens to a guard—Kevin?—looking irritated.

_ Gods, really not shy with the hands there, hmm? _ Not that Lup's complaining one bit. Add that to the list of potential friendly fun, hell yeah. If those words weren't for show, they'd be doing something dangerous to her. Hell, they still are.

“Get out here, now, hands up,” Kevin repeats. Barry reluctantly disentangles them, raising his hands, blush taking care of itself, as they step out of the closet. His heart pounds.

“How did you two get in here?” Kevin demands. “It was locked up tight.”

Lup's hands go up as she, reluctantly, follows Barry out, leaning into the inevitable red cheeks and messy lipstick to sell the grift. "Sorry, we just, got a little carried away..." An embarrassed laugh ties that lie in a nice rumpled bow. 

"How did you get in here?" The guard repeats. His hand inches for his waist, Lup's eyes going wide.  _ They're not threatening at all, what... _

"We have access! We work in the labs. We just... Y'know..." Her words don't seem to assuage the tension, if anything, it looks like the explanation makes things worse. 

The guard's hand settles at his hip, the other radioing in to someone, "Can I get backup in engineering? Seems like some scientists wanted to take advantage of the event--" He unclips a firearm--  _ wait what? No, no, no-- _

"Sir, please, we'll leave, we're just--" He points the weapon at her, and instinct reaches for the wand at her thigh--

And Lup is knocked to the floor.

As the guard draws his gun and trains it on Lup, heedless of their cooperation, two words race through Barry’s entire being—

**_FUCK. NO._ **

He reaches out and shoves her hard, please don’t be hurt, please don’t—

The wand clatters to the floor, and Lup picks herself up, ears ringing. She's bruised, but not hurt, scrambling to her knees, but Barry's not standing there, he's--

Pain tears through his abdomen, swirling and blossoming burgundy and orange as his eyes squeeze shut against it, and he falls with the force and shock as the gunshot echoes through the room. The breath is knocked out of him. The guard’s talking on the radio again, but Barry can’t focus on what he’s saying.

He can’t get enough air, he realizes dizzily as blood stains his shirt. His chest feels tight, it hurts to try. He’s so cold, why is everything so cold? All the warmth is draining from him, all the energy, everything that makes him Barry—no, it’s not draining. It’s being  _ dragged _ out. 

"No, nononono..." He's breathing, but only just, and he's bleeding  _ so much _ . It doesn't take a healer to know that he's fading fast. Lup's at his side in a second, a hand on his face, " _ Barry _ , Barry, I'm here. Just hold on, just-- just stay with me,  _ please _ ..." She presses her hands into the wound, gods her wand is too far, she's not a healer, but she has to try  _ something _ \-- forcing pressure and magic and tears all the same to his abdomen. She stumbles over words to a spell she's heard a million times but never cast, but it's never that easy, and the incantation dissolves into sobs as sparks of black energy fizzle at her fingertips.

“Lup—Lup I—“ he tries. He can’t, it’s all going dark,  _ not the dark, no, not the dark—  _ He tries to reach for her hand--please--don’t let him go--

None of it keeps Barry's eyes open. 

The guard is talking, to her, to others as they storm in to find the tile floor crawling in red, but none of it registers. It's all background static, and when one of the guards tries to pull her away, the hand on her shoulder is met with a furious blood-stained Fireball. Lup brushes a stray curl from Barry's face, leaving a thin red line across his cheek. Dress be damned, she pulls his head into her lap, whispering words in an Elvish these fuckers don't deserve to understand. " _ It's alright... I'll see you so soon... I'm so sorry, Barry..." _

It's not until the stretcher is brought in that Lup is pulled from him, not until her hands alight with flames and she snaps "That's my  _ husband _ " that the folks in scrubs part and let her climb back to his side. She doesn't acknowledge the medics' futile attempts in the back of the vehicle, just holds his cold hand and whispers apologies he can't hear.

\--

It’s dark. It’s dark everywhere.

As Barry is pulled from his body, darkness surrounds and welcomes him. Barry’s so scared of the dark.

How foolish.

The darkness is only all color united, it’s only all things at once, in one place.

Well, not all. Not yet.

But soon all, as soon as they can get the beautiful Light, they can use it to bring everything together, all things united, or if they refuse, obliterated. Barry understands all of this, as though he’s always known it. Perhaps there were just some pesky ideas about what he should do imposed over the top by others, blocking out this core imperative. Unbelievable that all that shit ever seemed to matter, let alone so much. What are things like compassion and compromise in contrast to the all-consuming mission to find the Light and unite all things?

Barry can help. He can do this. He’s powerful, he’s angry at being denied this beauty, at living in fear all this time, he  _ wants, _ now, he’s done with self-denial, he  _ wants. _

Barry’s not afraid of the dark.

He  _ is _ the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Well. There's not a lot I can say here? This sucks for them, a lot, and it's sad!  
> SA: It's gonna suck for a bit. No way around it.
> 
> SA's playlist for this shocking twist is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27Igv8g0dJU7Lt6W3NmWqR?si=bt0fp2EkSfq05sLuDcXeNw)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you mourn when everything refuses to just STOP?

The medics only confirm what Lup had seen with her own eyes; Barry's gone. 

Taako Sends her, frantic, and she doesn't even have the energy to stand and leave the busy emergency room. Her hands still clasps Barry's  ~~ cold, he's never been so cold ~~ , pressed to her lips as she responds to the spell. " _ I know, Ko. The... the shot was on our end. I'm at the hospital. Can you... can you come here?" _ Her voice doesn't break, not anymore. She's run out of energy for tears, too. But the shuddering breaths betray her anyways, and then she's faced with the question she didn't have an answer for. 

_ "What the hell, where's Barry? We've been trying to reach him--" _

_ "Can you just. Come here. Please." _ Lup shuts down the thread of communication, ignoring the instant ring in her ear as another Sending comes to her. 

Medics try to talk to her, try to ask her questions she hadn't thought she'd need the answers to. She doesn't have the strength for a convincing lie. She doesn't have strength for the truth, that she doesn't know how he'd want all this to be done, she only knows about the house on the hill with the irises and the tire swing and that stupid goat. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

Lup's bloodied hands keep holding his, her lips pressed to his knuckles when Taako arrives.

Taako takes in this scene in a half-second, and he’s by Lup’s side in another half-second.

“Shit,” he mutters, “shit, Barold,” and he wraps his arms around her, heedless of the mess.

Another medic comes in with a clipboard and a list of questions. “Fuck off and let her grieve,” Taako snaps, sending her scampering away.

“ _ Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they? _ ” he asks, concern the only part of his Tüson Elvish any bystander might parse.

Lup shakes her head, eyes still fixed on Barry's. They always say that you could just be sleeping, that that's what it looks like. But she's slept by his side, every night for the past nine gods-damned months, and this isn't sleep. His chest doesn't rise or fall, he doesn't snore, when she squeezes his hand there's no absentminded squeeze in return. Her partner, her best friend outside of the arms around her, he's not there. 

" _ It should have been me." _ Her own Elvish has taken on a tear-soaked gravel, and as much as she doesn't trust her voice, she can't bring her hands away from Barry's. " _ It was pointed at me. _ I  _ reached for my wand, he was aiming for _ me  _ and..." _ she takes a breath. If he could hear her now, blaming herself, Barry'd have some words for her. They'd all be soft though, reminders that guilt gets you nowhere. That almost makes it worse. 

No. It does. It makes it so much worse. 

" _ 'S not your fault, Lu, _ " he says. " _ And when Barold comes back I'll thank him and then kick his ass for making you cry, dying that way. Fucking rude. _ "

He fixes a glare on another medic in the hall, who seems to have been sent by the first medic who stands watching anxiously. They'd better leave them the fuck alone.

Lup leans her head against Taako's, somehow finding a fresh spring of tears to draw from. " _ Did they get it? _ " The implication is obvious, and if anyone can understand her, they'll be fucked. But she needs to know, needs some good news to give to Barry when he comes back. Needs him to not have gone through this for nothing.

" _ They got it, and everyone else is fine. I think the gala's kinda toast, which sucks 'cause Mags was just getting the hang of it out there on the dance floor. It's just...him, _ " Taako says.

Lup nods. At least they'd gotten what they'd come for. It doesn't make Barry open his eyes, but it does mean she'll have good news to share when he does. 

Three months. Then he'll be back. They can handle that.

The medic hesitantly steps into the doorway, apparently undeterred by the glaring. "Excuse me, Mrs. Hallwinter?"

_ Mrs. Hallwinter _ . 

Of course, what else would they call her. It is her name, as far as they know. But they don't know a damned thing, do they? Marriage is one thing, but traversing time and space, consoling each other through death after death of a world, taking a  _ bullet _ for her? And he was  _ hers _ godsdammit. He was  _ hers _ and it didn't mean  _ shit _ in the end. He was hers, and she had his name and shared his bed and she  _ loved _ him, and none of it  _ fucking mattered _ . 

And one day, it would be her. It would be her body growing cold and no one would be able to stop it, because that's just the way of this twisted fucking mission, isn't it? And Barry would be there, because of course he would, and if she comes clean? If she tells him how she feels, and if he grows to love her too? He's going to hurt just like this. Every time. And Lup can't do that to her best friend. 

She pats Taako's hand, nods to let the medic speak. "Yes?"

The medic gives her an apologetic look. "The police are here, they need to ask you a few questions. I'm so sorry for your loss, I wish you all happiness in your next match."

Taako snorts. "Can this not wait? Can  _ all of this _ not wait? Can you people not see that my sister was just widowed and very nearly got killed herself?"

"Taako..." Lup sets a firm hand on his, eyes pleading. Tired. She will rip any relevant new-ones in need of ripping, but not here. Not when she's not the only one grieving in the room. Few people deserve her wrath tonight.

The medic gives them all a look of practiced, professional compassion. "I understand that it's difficult. I'll keep you in my good thoughts," she says, stepping out as an officer in uniform enters. He pulls out a small recorder.

"Hello, Mrs. Hallwinter, I'm Officer Peters. I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. I need to ask you a few questions, if that's alright," he says.

Lup stands with a heavy breath, sets Barry's hand down, now covered in lipstick marks the same shade of crimson staining her dress. A perfect match. 

"Sure. Taako, would you... come with me?" She interlaces their fingers, holding tight.

Taako takes a breath. "'Course," he answers, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Officer Peters leads them to a small conference room of sorts with a table and chairs. He pulls out a chair and sits. "I understand you were present at the time of your husband's passing. Can you tell me what you remember?" he asks.

Lup sits, hands folded in front of her. The picture of cooperation. And she really did intend to cooperate. But then? She scoffs. 

"Passing. Right." She links hands with Taako again as he sits beside her, pristine brown fingers interlocked with hers, bloodstained and shaking. Lup takes a breath. And she  _ rips _ . 

"I'd be happy to tell you, Officer, if you might tell me one thing. Who, pray tell, hired the security for this  _ event _ ? Who,  _ pray tell, Officer _ , put an undertrained, trigger-happy,  _ kid _ , in possession of a  _ firearm _ , and who,  _ Officer _ , put in that  _ child's head _ that two individuals granted access to those labs were to be  _ shot on sight _ ?" Her voice doesn't raise; aside from a curl of her lip, Lup is the face of calm. Her knuckles though, under Taako's, are white. 

"What I remember? Officer? Is going to a beautiful gala with my husband, and leaving in an ambulance. What I remember is some  _ kid _ , pulling a gun on us, for being where we had every right and authorisation to be. For all your community's emphasis on  _ unity _ ,  _ Officer, _ I didn't expect stealing a quiet moment to turn to  _ this. _ "

Officer Peters steeples his fingers. "I understand this is difficult, ma'am. We're in the process of sifting out the personnel choices for the security staff. I promise we will do our utmost to see justice done. Can you take me through, from beginning to end? The more you can tell me the easier it will be to help," he says, ignoring the daggers Taako's busy glaring.

"I've told you all there is. We took a moment to get out of the crowd, the labs are what we had access to. Gods, you want me to, what? Recount my... promiscuous rendezvous with my husband in the moments before one of your guards  _ murdered _ him?" She shakes her head, pulling a shaking lip and a well of fresh tears from that pit in her gut. It's not difficult. And convincing or not, these people, at least those in charge, deserve to hurt for what they did. 

"Your guard found us, and when we went willingly, when we said we would leave,  _ your guard _ fired at me. If it hadn't been for Barry..." There's no show in her tears now, streaking heavy through dark blood on her cheeks. It's not pretty, and she doesn't care, because even as she speaks she realises the truth in her words, the weight behind them. If he hadn't been there, she'd be dead. It's hard to not resent the fact that she's here instead.

Taako squeezes her hand comfortingly. Officer Peters gives her a sympathetic look. "I just have to ask, to get a clear picture of what happened: did you or your husband do anything that might've made Kevin think you weren't cooperating? Did you move toward him, or drop your hands, anything at all?"

Taako's jaw drops. "Officer, how is that relevant when Kevin's the one who  _ pulled a gun and shot a man? _ " he demands.

"I--" Her breath shakes now, replaying the moment in her head. They cooperated, they'd had their hands up... 

And Lup had reached for her wand. 

It wasn't until the weapon had been drawn and aimed, not til there was a real threat, but... It was her fault. 

"I... we didn't-- Not until he pulled the gun, we just..."  _ Gods, it's all my fault, I killed him, I killed Barry... _ Lup claps a hand to her mouth, eyes closed tight against the barrage of blame.  _ I killed Barry. _

"Ooooo-kay, that's about enough," Taako says firmly, wrapping his arm around Lup. "Officer, my sister was nearly shot down for no  _ godsdamned _ reason today, and her husband was  _ murdered. _ I can't fucking believe--you know what? No more questions until she gets a lawyer, period."

Officer Peters opens his mouth, then shuts it again. "Surely there's no need--" he stammers.

"Surely there absofuckinglutely  _ is _ need, tell him Lulu, get it on his fancy recorder, no more without a lawyer," Taako encourages.

Lup wipes her eyes with a shuddering breath, grateful for the arm around her. Grateful that one of them has the sense to call this horror-show off. "My brother's right. You-- you can schedule us a real meeting, with a lawyer and everything, but I-- I've told you plenty." 

The metal chair grates against the floor as she stands, headed for the door. There's another sound of protest from the officer, which Lup shuts down with a tear-streaked glare. 

"Unless I am under arrest, I suggest you sit down and let me see my husband.  _ Sir _ ." She takes Taako's arm, leaning heavy against him, and doesn't break down in his arms until the door shuts solidly behind them.

\--

The evening drags forward. The discovery of the Light's theft was met with a search of the premises, but by then it was long gone, squirreled away to the ship by Olivia and Lucretia, with them coming back to the broken festivities hand-in-hand and smiling, albeit tensely.

Taako took Lup home, encouraging her into the shower, making sure she ate something, and installing her on the couch with a cup of tea and a box of Kleenex, ready to go to war against an onslaught of hastily assembled subpar casseroles or whatever the fuck these people did during their grieving times.

Lup let herself be dragged home. She doesn't so much shower as stand under scalding water until it turns cold and then some, watching the tub turn red and clear again. She doesn't feel clean. 

She eats, at Taako's behest. She's familiar enough with grief to know that it's not unlike survival, in the most basic sense. You have to keep being a person, keep taking care of yourself, or that grief will consume you. 

He'll come back. Lup knows this.

It doesn't help.

Taako stays--Magnus is a big boy, Taako and Lup needs each other now. Morning finds them huddled together, just like so many mornings before.

Lup wakes from a sleep deeper than she had hoped possible. Turns out watching your best friend die is exhausting. Hmm.

Morning also brings a woman with a kind smile at the door to the Hallwinters’ apartment.  The light at the door flickers, and Lup doesn't even try to untangle herself from Taako. If it's the crew, they'll be grieving too. If it's not? Let them see what was taken from them. From her. 

"Hello, Mrs. Hallwinter, my name is Teddy, from the matchmaking office. My condolences to you, may I come in?"

"It's open."

Teddy opens the door and steps in, lugging a bag stuffed with folders full of paperwork. “I’m here to help you move forward. Obviously rematching after bereavement is a bit different from a first match, what with grief and the sort of habits and expectations one establishes, if it’s alright with you I’d like to start with the standard questionnaire since we don’t have one on file yet—“

“Hey, quick question, what the  _ fuck? _ ” Taako interjects. “Why are you here less than twenty-four—we haven’t even had a  _ funeral _ yet!” He rubs Lup’s arm comfortingly.

"I'm aware, of course, that this is a difficult matter, but I assure you, our culture's studies have shown--"

"No." Lup sets her mug down, slow,  _ tired _ stare meeting Teddy's. 

"I'm-- I'm sorry?"

"I said no." She pulls the blanket-- Barry's blanket, the one his mother had made when he left home-- tighter around her. "In case you forgot, we're not  _ from _ your culture. I'm not going to be rematched. End of discussion."

Teddy looks at Lup curiously, tilting her head, then takes a short breath and offers a reassuring smile. “Mrs. Hallwinter, I know this is hard to think about. I know. But who will support you while you grieve? It’s hard to be alone, not just hard, impossible. Unfathomable. Please, we can start with the easiest questions, and take the time you need during the process—“

“She said no,” Taako interjects. “ _ Want her gone? _ ” he signs.

Lup just shakes her head. "I have my brother. I have my friends. Who I  _ actually know _ . I don't need another person, however great for me you think they are. I've played your game, I've lived in your cookie-cutter rooms, done your research, I've been. Compliant. I'm done." 

She stands, the juxtaposition of mourning and fire in her eyes. Her hand flicks under the massive quilt, and the front door swings open behind Teddy. 

"If rematching is required to live here, I'll leave. But I'm not playing this game anymore. We're done here."

Teddy backs up slowly to the door. “I—I’ll speak with the head matchmaker, if it’s a question of—time, maybe, I’ll ask—“ she stammers. “You’ll be in my thoughts, I’m sorry.” She pulls the door closed behind her.

“Good fucking riddance, these people are  _ animals, _ ” Taako grumbles. “You okay? Just need to exist for a sec, or?”

She sits, quilt piling up around her. She nods. And when Taako settles in beside her, she falls into his lap, a familiar hand taking up its place in her hair. And Lup stares at the door. And waits for Barry to come home. 

\--

Lup hasn't so much fallen asleep as drifted into perhaps the most painful, melancholy trance. Rewatching that night, their words, processing but not really  _ processing _ . 

Another light flashes at the door, and she's all but pulled herself up to answer it, when whoever it is barges in. 

_ Several _ whoevers. All in uniform, with more of those guns, but bigger, not pointed but  _ there _ , and Lup stuns like a deer in the headlights. She meets Taako's eyes, frantic with panic.  _ They're coming for me too, they found the Light, they know, they'll force a match or tear me down for refusing, they know they know they know-- _

Taako keeps a hand on her arm, steadying her, swallowing down fear. “Hey—“

“Mrs. Hallwinter, we have a warrant to search the premises,” one of them says, offering Lup a piece of paper as the others split up, heading for the bedroom and kitchen. “The Light of Creation has been missing since last night, I understand you and the late Dr. Hallwinter worked closely with it? Our condolences, by the way.”

She takes the paper, doesn't even try to read it. If these people are here to search or kill or tear her house down they'll do it anyway. "We do. Did, I don't..." The paper, a fragile pastel-yellow thing, wrinkles in her grip.

"It's not here. Why would it be..." 

One menacing figure storms the kitchen  ~~ their kitchen ~~ , throwing cupboards wide. A wicker basket falls from the counter, spilling something like persimmons on the floor  ~~ a running joke, persistence, resilience ~~ . Lup starts, reaching for Taako and burying her face in his hair.  _ Just go, just make them leave, please _ . She's not so much for prayer, not anymore, but the semblance of a home, not yet fully crafted and falling down around her has Lup whispering to gods that don't know her.

But they don’t go. Taako wraps his arms around her as they go through the apartment, opening drawers and closets, rifling through clothes. One starts to pull books from the shelves, carelessly piling them on the floor: notebooks and scientific texts topsy-turvy here, a pale blue paperback with a bundle of letters on the cover splayed open atop a thick photo album there. Work and relaxation and memories, all scattered like so much garbage by the brutal visitors.

“What the fuck do you think is behind the books, my guy?” Taako snaps.

They ignore the twins, clearing shelves and chests, doing who knows what to the bedroom  ~~ their bedroom, where the sheets still smelled like bergamot and rose, like them ~~ . Lup blocks it out as best as she can, ears pressed low and gripping Taako like a lifeline. 

She doesn't look up, even as they start to file out, satisfied for the moment that the Light wasn't there. She doesn't look up when Taako speaks, strokes her hair, his own form shaking too. Nor when Magnus rushes in, having heard the commotion and demanding an explanation. She just holds tight, and waits for it to stop.

The officers largely ignore Magnus’s questions, all “sir, please step aside” and “we have a warrant”, the apartment a disaster around them. Taako holds Lup, quivering with barely-contained rage as they finally go. How dare they.

Magnus takes a somber look around the place.  It's a mess. Everything they'd put into this little place, strewn about the floor and tables. “Guys, we should prolly go stay on the ship. This is...this is not cool, they might come back and hassle us more.”

Lup sighs, all vacant red eyes. "Yeah. Tomorrow. I'm not... I can't... We can pack it up tomorrow." No way in hell she's staying in their... bullshit jurisdiction. 

But no way she's packing up everything tonight. The living room is  _ tragic _ , she doesn't even want to look at the bedroom.

"They could've at least cleaned up..." Lup stands, not even opening her arms, just planting herself face-first into Magnus. "Do you guys want to, y'know... stay tonight?"

Magnus bear hugs her, taking the full force of her flop. “Yeah, we’ll stay. Right, Taako? It’ll be best to stay together.”

Taako nods in agreement. “For sure. Sooner we get outta this fucking place the better,” he says. “No sense letting ‘em just...fuck it. Fuck them.”

Eventually, Lup releases the hug, and the three work to bring some semblance of order back to the room. It's not perfect, it never would be, but there's space enough to pile cushions and blankets on the floor. 

Maybe it's Taako's doing, but the others trickle into the apartment, too. Lucretia comes by bearing a mountain of blankets, and, after Lup assures her she's welcome, Olivia. Merle and Davenport arrive with tea and cards, and the seven of them coalesce in a mass of warm drinks and soft things.

Lup doesn't ask about the Light, where it is, how they got it. The speakers still listen, and honestly she doesn't need to know. Taako says they have it, so that's that. The apartment is firmly locked, the soft glow of no less than three arcane signatures making sure of that. And together they exist, until morning.

\--

It takes work, packing up. It takes thought and organization and planning.

Or not. There’s another way, too: flight. There’s  _ everything in boxes or bags or whatever, just go, _ or worse,  _ only what you can carry, NOW. _

But with enough hands, and brains, and backs, even flight can have a semblance of organization, and  _ what WE can carry _ is so much more.

Family is a luxury, sometimes, one that can’t be bought. Lup has it now, even with a gaping hole in it.

The crew packs to leave, pausing when they need to, trying to be gentle, but moving quickly. By nightfall of the following day, the entire place is vacant again, just like nine months ago, but soaked in memories.

The place feels eerily clinical again. Lup leans in the doorway of the bedroom, the last bundle of bedclothes waiting for her in the living room. She's given up the massive quilt in favour of the biggest, warmest flannel she could find in the closet  ~~ Barry's, of course ~~ . She's showered, she's caffeinated, much to the crew's exasperation. She's going to be a damned  _ person _ . 

Most things from that night had been packed away or discarded; her pretty bloodstained dress is maybe salvageable, but looking at the fabric turned aching shades of pink and red, it's hard to imagine it ever looking right again. Maybe one day, but right now...it's hard to look at in the first place. Lup's not sure where it ends up, her brother's taken care of that box, thankfully. Barry's things-- well, custom dictates he must be buried in something. A little magic behind the scenes is enough to illusion it to perfection. 

Well, almost. 

Hopefully he won't mind, come next cycle, that he was buried without a tie. It was a gift, after all. He should get to wear it for more than a night. 

Taako stands just outside the doorway of the apartment. "You ready to go?" he asks, just to confirm. She looks resolute.

It's fucking incredible, knowing what Taako knows. There's no way she could hide it, Taako knows how he feels losing Barry, how Magnus feels, and the whole rest of the crew. They're all taking it hard, but not like this. Even accounting for her watching him die, even with her playing the role of grieving widow, Taako knows his twin.

Lup and Barry may not have been fucking. But there's certainly something there beyond friendship.

Honestly, good for them, though it sucks so much worse right now. When he comes back maybe they can pick it up. Meantime, they just have to make it three more months.

Lup gives the place a final once over, and heaves the basket onto her hip. At least this plane will survive. At least Barry will come back. Eventually.

Still fuckin' hurts.

\--

Slowly, but inevitably it seems, this world returns. 

Officers from various departments, matchmakers, they all send for Lup. Taako refuses to bring home various requests for rematching (though work must be done to stock the ship and survive), and eventually her refusal is taken for fact. Not understood, perhaps. But at least they stop shoving letters in with his pay-checks. 

The days spent without the Light of Creation see the system of this world properly cleared of its thrall, the cultural focus on unity helping those in power mend the hurt they'd caused in the crew's final months. Olivia comes bearing news at a dinner, some weeks and weeks after the Gala, that the speakers have been recalled. Something about unforeseen privacy violations. User complaints. 

Shocking. 

Lup unpacks. Into a small room, already moderately stocked with things untouched for months. She unpacks Barry's room, too, in the time she spends not doing research on a Light the labs don't have. It feels a bit like an intrusion, still, habits she knows not quite fitting to a room she doesn't. But she tries. 

She'll return the quilt when he gets back. Until then, it gets cold, stargazing alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: One writer's opinion: FUCK this plane! Burn it all down!  
> SA: Second writer’s opinion? ACAB, and that means Alien Cops Are Bastards now too! Gods this was so much to write the first time, and editing it all is so much more. Make sure you’re registered to vote y’all, stay safe 💕


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.
> 
> Just, finally.

When the Hunger comes, the crew is ready. The Light is secure. All six are ready to go, ready to be seven again. Olivia has been warned, and tried to warn as many others as will listen: Shelter as best you can. Don't take any risks, there will be something left to rebuild. This isn't the end. It sucks, it  _ hurts _ , but we promise it's not the end.

As Davenport fires up the Starblaster and they lift off, no one can ignore the tears Lucretia can't quite keep back or the bittersweet feeling of it all. This plane had descended into a hellish dystopia seemingly overnight, their flaws writ large-- with the aid of the Light, true.

But they had healed.

When the thrall cleared, this plane had gone about making amends, and that's not nothing. That's hope.

Hope is never nothing. Sometimes, it's everything.

Sometimes, it's all you have. Sometimes, it's all that survives.

And sometimes, hope is continuing to hold out a hand for someone who's been swallowed whole by despair, by rage, by  _ nothing. _

And so it is that now, as the Starblaster dodges through the inky void shot through with a myriad of vibrant hues and breaks free, that Barry is pulled back into his body--no, a new body, fuck, with the same old stiff neck--and immediately finds it a struggle to  _ fucking stay in there. _ He tries to move his arm, but it's not right-- it's too fast and too slow, it's several inches to the left, it's someone else's. No--gods, that one is  _ his _ , isn't it? Like just him, Barry, the arm he does stuff with? Not a big horrific void or mass or—? Maybe he shouldn't move, close his eyes a minute-- _ nope, bad idea, very bad idea. _ His stomach turns. He’s not sure he’s gonna be able to make this body go. Sorry guys, it just might not do a damn thing, look at it over there, standing in jeans looking like a doofus. He realizes he’s not meant to be looking at himself from quite this angle as another wave of nausea hits. Just a minute, just--just a minute. This sucks. He looks around and sees them all in their places, a new year beginning.

He sees Lup. Oh, gods, she's here. It’s gonna be okay.

The whole ship shudders through the dark, a dark that Elven eyes can't even parse, and the Twins stumble. But they stumble together. And Lup holds fast to the rail, and to her brother, and waits for the calm. 

When she opens her eyes again, she can see clear skies through the Starblaster's barriers. And everyone is there, blinking back the dawn with her. The ship flies smooth, no immediate dangers to reckon with as they all collect their bearings. 

All of them.

Three months has been a long time. 

Lup runs to Lucretia. 

A new body, or something like it, is free of tear-stains for only a moment, but Lup wraps her in a tight embrace before Lucretia breaks in her arms. "I'm so sorry, Keesha. I'm so, so sorry..." Lup whispers soft words that she knows won't help in the slightest, lets the air be hugged from her lungs. The calm of the air is cruel in its own way, offering no distractions for the loss their archivist has to confront. Lup knows loss, knows grief, knows that she can't begin to imagine Lucretia's pain. It's not fair, none of this is. Not even the good that comes from it. In their mission, even joy comes at a great cost.

Barry reels slightly, still struggling to stay upright and  _ off the fucking ceiling. _ The ship steadies; he, however, doesn't all at once.

Lup is comforting Lucretia. Lucretia, who's just lost her wife. What a horrible pain to feel, being torn from a spouse after such a short time, yet with such a deep connection.

Horrible, horrible pain.

What a horrible fucking  _ pain _ . Lucretia needs comfort. Someone should hold her, soothe her, sit her down and care for her. That's what someone should do, for a person who's been ripped apart from their wife, their beautiful, radiant  _ wife, _ their treasure, the light of their miserable existence.

That's what someone should do when someone's going through  _ hell. _

Barry sways, and shakes his head to clear it. It’s fifty-fifty on whether he can manage to walk straight yet. Someone really should just hold him in his body, or he might keep flickering in and out of it. Oh fuck, he  _ hates _ this, he can’t tell whether he’s coming or going. He tries to breathe, focus on...his toes first, they’re all there, next legs, there they are...piece by piece, all of him accounted for. 

Anyhow. The ship. Hopefully the ship hasn't taken too much damage, he feels like  _ ass. _ He needs to rest, but there's no time to lie down, is there, huh? He needs a lot of things, as it happens, but it’s pretty obvious that doesn’t matter one bit. There's no  _ fucking _ rest, just an endless bullshit parade.

They're all here. 

All of them. 

And Lup can't even bring herself to look at Barry. 

She's mourned and packed and sorted through feelings for months, she's cried and slept and run miles for an excuse to feel something other than the encroaching itch of melancholy, to not remember that her best friend of seventeen godsdamned years was dead. 

And now he's back. 

And she can't fucking look at him.

**"All hands report to the cockpit, repeat, all hands report to the cockpit."** Davenport's instructions over the speaker shake Lucretia from her arms, but the two stay close to heed call. The crew follows behind; Merle claps a hand to Barry's leg with a "Welcome Back", Magnus scoops him up in a proper hug before apologising and turning back towards the hall. 

Taako waits. He squints. He doesn't hug, doesn't touch. He squints. 

"What. The fuck." Narrowed eyes shift from Barry, physical,  _ there _ , to the hall. "Did  _ not _ see that coming."

She didn't...?

She didn't even... _ nothing? _

Barry had thought he just had to wait, he could be patient. He didn't like it and it hurt, but Lucretia needed...

So more of it was an act than he thought. All of it. Awesome.

It's a good thing he didn't do something stupid like take a bullet for her or he'd feel like a real jackass right about n-- _ OH WAIT THAT'S RIGHT. _

Alright, well. The captain's calling. He can't just stand here and try to keep his knees from buckling all damn day.

He doesn't need  _ thanks. _ He doesn't need  _ praise. _ He doesn't.

Lucky him, then. He heads unsteadily for the cockpit, passing Taako on the way. "Captain's calling, better get up there," he mutters.

Taako blinks. He gawks. He mans a full face journey as Barold walks away. 

_ When the hell did they have time to fight? _

He jogs up to fall in line with Barry, hand dragging down his face. Words. Say words, fix the thing.  _ Wha-- _

"Yo Barold, what uhh. 'Sthat some sorta... cool kinky thing from, like... the cycle, er..." The goof hangs awkward in the air. He doesn't look... good. Like at all. Like yeah, he  _ died _ , but what the  _ fuck _ ? 

He puts a hand on Barry's arm, "You  _ good _ ? I think Cap'll understand you taking a second, my guy..."

Barry stops and whirls, dizzy and irritated. “Well I  _ died, _ so that’s not ideal, and I was...like  _ in _ the thing, for a  _ while _ I guess _ , _ but I don’t seem to be bleeding and my legs are holding up, so. Don’t really plan on doing a bunch more dying, I don’t actually recommend it.”

Taako balks. "I mean yeah, wouldn't think it was a  _ spa day _ , but..."

Barry’s dimly aware that he’s being an ass. He’s also dimly aware that perhaps martyring himself for his own fucking imagination and spending three months surrounded by total despair might entitle him to that.

Not really. It doesn’t.

It should entitle him to soft care and gratitude and maybe some fucking tears and  _ I missed yous _ or something, but apparently life isn’t movies and sometimes you just up and pour your whole self out for someone who thought the whole thing was just casual.

This happens every damn time, idiot. Always with the intensity, then the heartbreak.

“We gotta check what we’re flying into, I guess,” he mutters.

They break into the cockpit to see the rest of the crew manning their stations, Davenport looking much more relaxed on re-entry than he had on exit, and rightfully so. 

"Atmosphere looks good, Cap'n." Lup calls from her monitor. She glances across to Merle's, squints. "Definitely life-supporting, but I don't see any life to support? Least not humanoid."

"Alright, let's bring her down. Everyone look alive." Captain Davenport turns, seeing Barry. "Good to have you back, Hallwinter. We'll debrief after landing, alright? Your crew missed you." There's a round of agreements from all. Almost.

“Thanks, I—“ Barry feels nauseous.

She—she won’t even acknowledge him in a group?

They have to  _ work together, _ what...?

He looks at her, at the way she won’t meet his gaze.

Does she regret kissing him, too?

He slides into his seat. His head swims and he leans heavy against the panel in front of him until it passes.

He has to try  _ something _ . He turns to her.

“Did you guys make it? Did they get the Light?” 

Gods, at least fate had seen fit to take him before he could get the last two words of that sentence out. At least he had that small comfort. This would suck so much worse otherwise. Maybe. Or not.

Lup looks up from her screen, gives him a tense smile, and turns her gaze back to the readout. "Yeah, Keesha and Liv got it." 

Gods, she can't just... not acknowledge the elephant in the ship. But he looks awful, of course he does, and  _ she did that _ . 

She killed him. 

The least Lup can do after putting him through all of that is be a solid presence. Letting her emotions interfere with his recovery wouldn't be fair at all. Chin up, do your job, don't let it happen again. 

Any of it. 

She clicks through readouts, shooting a chart to Merle's screen. "Looks like lots of water, you seeing anything edible out there?" Merle makes a noncommittal gesture, and the Starblaster hovers into a descent over a still, metallic world.

They got it. That’s a relief.

Barry’s feeling a lot of emotions—confusion, hurt, anger—but he still loves her, dammit, no matter what, even though he’s upset and feels like shit and literally  _ died _ for a while there, and he has to know. It could explain why she’s—mad? Cold? Indifferent? to him. It could explain everything.

As they descend, he asks her. “Did they hurt you?” He dreads the answer.

_ Did they hurt her? _

"No." It's not entirely false. They hadn't murdered her, hadn't taken her into brutal custody for her resistance, nor tortured her for information. 

They had taken him, though. Along with her friend, her partner, real or fictional, the world they'd just left behind had stolen any sense of security Barry had offered her over the year. Their home hadn't been safe from sacking and inspection, drudging up horrifying memories of her belongings thrown out to the street when such-and-such caretaker grew tired of rowdy twins, or when a caravan could no longer shoulder the burden of two more mouths to feed. 

"No, I survived." It's the truth. More than she could say for him, after all.

Okay, so number one, that’s a relief. He had been afraid they’d killed her too, or who knows what all else.

Barry watches himself sitting next to Lup for a moment. Damn, he looks like shit.

_ Get back in there. _

Number two, so  _ that’s not it, huh? _ Something else is eating her.

So it has to be the kiss then, or  _ something _ he did—

Ah,  _ fuck. _

The hands...in the closet...what’s the statute of limitations on “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by grabbing your ass even if it was life or death, I’m truly sorry”?

He swallows. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “I was scared they did.”

Lup wishes they had. 

She wants some reason,  _ any _ excuse at all for the small nod that's all she has to offer him. 

She wants to hug him. Or kiss him. Or maybe cry. 

She doesn't deserve those luxuries. 

The Starblaster sets down, as it has every year for nearly three decades, and the crew leaves their posts in favour of solid ground. 

It's not her place to pry. They should talk, probably. They had planned to, months ago, before. About everything other than spending three months wherever the hells death was for them. He deserves time, before she comes fretting and questioning and needing. She can give him that much.

\--

The curious thing about this plane is that it's  _ empty. _

There's an entire city arranged in steps, but no  _ people. _

The crew files out of the cockpit, scattering to various duties. Fortunately, the trip out of the last plane had seemed reasonably smooth. Barry heads for the gangplank, swaying slightly.

Whoops, no, wait, hold on, the whole thing's spinning. He grabs onto the doorframe and drags himself back to let a newly stoic Lucretia through. "Go 'head, I'll--just a sec," he says, leaning his head against his arm, braced against the wall. How long did this last for Magnus and Merle and Davenport? Did it scale with the length of time they were dead? He can't remember, but that sounds like a thing to find out.

Davenport is last to leave, as always (if at all). He clears his throat behind Barry, less in an authoritative act and more for the simple purpose of not startling him. He's been in those shoes. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. 

"Hallwinter, why don't we debrief? You've been through hell, and we've got time to take a beat before getting to work here. The crew can take initial data for now." He speaks with the same weight as any command. Barold is his crew, and a damn good man. They're family at this point, and looking out for his family is foremost on his mind.

Barry flinches and turns, still feeling like he's hitting reality off by a solid 17 degrees. That wasn't a request, and for that, really, Barry's grateful. He doesn't have any decisions in him at the moment. Debriefing he can do, it'll probably help even.

"Coming, sir," he says, and follows the captain down the hall.

It's a quick decision with years of observation to back it that leads Captain Davenport to the medbay. Physically, Barry's fine. Magnus was, too, save a black eye. He was himself, jostled and confused, but not injured. But Barry's a man of science. Particularly, he is a man who does well in clean-cut, clinical environments. And giving him a better shot at grounding right now is the name of the game. 

Barry follows Davenport to the medbay. Wait, no, he's fine, he's not hurt? But if that's where the captain wants to debrief...well, at least Barry knows the place. He's just not usually on the cot.

Dav takes a seat, motioning for Barry to do the same. "Now I can't say I understand exactly what you're working with, Barry. If it's anything like..." It goes without saying. "Priority number one is getting you rehabilitated and in working order. I'm no cleric, but I and every member of this crew are here to help. As far as we know there's no medical precedent for this, so I'm trusting you to know what you need. Which means I'm also trusting you to ask for it." Cap'nport raises an eyebrow, daring Barry to challenge his assessment. 

"This isn't an order, Hallwinter. This is me comin' from that same hellhole. You're outta there, but it sticks with you. So what do you need?"

"I--" What does he need? He hadn't been...hurt, apart from the bullet, apart from  _ dying, _ but that had only been a moment. He hasn’t even really thought about it until now. He tries to take a breath, half expecting that he won’t be able to, that his vision will be filled again with swirling reds and oranges and he’ll fall to the ground. He doesn’t though. He doesn’t fall; he can breathe.

He can also remember. He remembers everything. Where he went. What he’s done.

It hadn’t hurt, not really. He hadn't been forced to do anything against his will.

He'd done it all willingly.

Fuck, that was so much  _ worse. _ What kind of monster--

"Do you--" Barry stops and licks his lips. They're too  _ dry. _ "Do you remember--did they take the best of you--no, did they make you  _ want _ to give them the best of you? All your good intentions and skills. And then--what you did with that was so terrible you can't--"

He destroyed--he remembers, the whole side of a building torn off, like a tornado had sucked it away, a roof caved in, statues in pieces, broken glass everywhere, reaching for the ship ready to--it was him, he did it, he helped, his responsibility.

He drops his head into his hands with a long, shuddery breath. How can he bring joy or care or beauty to anyone? He only brings death and destruction. He wasn't forced; no one held a gun to his head. He's disgusting.

"I don't know how to fix this. I don't think I can."

Davenport gives him a moment before reaching a hand to Barry's shoulder. "Yeah... yeah. It was hell. Making you think that's what you want, and just... givin' you the means. I remember." He'd much rather forget. But it's been years, and the memory of that place still festers in the captain's mind. It probably always would. 

"It wasn't you, though." He sighs. It's one thing to go through it, another thing to talk about it. A whole different ballgame to make sense of it. "It was and it wasn't. You're a good man, and those things the Hunger would have you do... you'd never agree to them if you weren't  _ in _ it.

"This mission, though?  _ This _ you agreed to. It sure as hell's a lot different than the one we signed up for, but I know you, Barry. I remember the man I picked for this mission. He wanted to come out here and do some good. And he has. He will." Davenport gives him a solid clap on the shoulder. "You don't need to fix anything. Just focus on getting back to yourself. Think you can do that?"

Barry knows, sort of. He knows and doesn't. Davenport is right, his own will would never have done those things if it hadn't been twisted by the Hunger.

Still, he did them, and he has to live with the guilt and the...violation, Barry realizes, he feels violated. The Hunger twisting his will like that...that's what it feels like, a violation of the mind. And now he has memories that definitely aren't gonna let him sleep tonight, huh?

It's one thing to dream that you're being chased by a monster, you run, they walk, they still catch you. It's another thing entirely to dream of yourself, walking.

"I can try, I--I'm not for sure--you know  _ what? _ " he bursts out frustratedly. "I don't really know what's me and what's not, is the problem. I can try to get back to myself, but, I don't know how much is left. I hope it's something, cause--" 

"Hallwinter." Davenport claps back against Barry's rising tone, not upset, but commanding. Heard.

Barry stops to take a breath. "I tried to  _ kill _ you. Not just me, but also me. That's--I don't know."

He's not really sure how to wrap his head around that, though he knows he has to try.

Or maybe repress it for oh, say, a decade or so? Is that anything?

He does have to try. He sighs, though even that is a far cry from the broken weeping he feels like doing. If he starts, though...no telling if or when he’ll stop.

" _ You _ never left. Every bit of you that got on this ship at the beginning is here now. You've seen and done things that no man should have to, but you're still you. You're not what the Hunger did to you, or with you, or what it'd have you believe it did  _ for _ you. You are an arcane scientist, and a damn fine one. You're a member of this crew. This family. And not a single person on board this ship blames you for what the Hunger did. Understood?" 

He leans back in the seat. It feels hypocritical, to say these things that had taken him so long to remind himself. But hopefully it'll be easier for Barry if he doesn't have to come to the same conclusions on his own. 

"It hurts. Still. I won't lie to you and say that it'll go away. But you can't let it keep eating at you after you've got out. If you need time, take it. Whatever that looks like. Let your crew help ya out. And from experience? Lay off the caffeine for a bit." Davenport gives his shoulder a firm squeeze, and stands. "I won't keep you from your duties anymore, but you ever need to talk, my door's open. I'm orderin' you to come knocking when you need it, alright?"

Okay. That, Barry can probably do.

"Thanks," he says. "I think I--I can probably manage to get started. I'll be a little slower than usual, but."

He stands. "I--if I need to I'll come talk, thanks." He repeats it back, trying to stick it in his memory.

He crosses to the door. "The crew, they're all okay? No one else got hurt?" Maybe if they didn't get hurt, that'll help him feel like he can move forward a little. Maybe there's a little bit of comfort here.

Davenport shakes his head. "They're alright. Everyone else made it to takeoff. The uhh-- Lucretia and Lup were put through the wringer there at the end, but. Nothin' physical at least. Small blessings." He closes up the medbay, following Barry out into the world. 

"Take your time, Barry. Looks like we'll have quite a bit here." 

Magnus rushes up to greet them, sturdy hand clapped to his back, and for a moment, it feels like any old cycle. "Barry! How're ya doin' bud? We missed ya. Cap'n, crew was looking to scout the area; you two comin'?"

“Better for being back, Mags,” Barry answers. Some of the immediate nausea has faded, though Barry still feels alternately heavy and achy and wooden. Scouting might—hmmm. If there’s fresh air? If he stays close to the others, pairs off with—

Guess he’ll just. Pick someone to pair off with.

But yeah, maybe, if he pushes forward and doesn’t think too much about it yet, and plus: the crew needs him. They need this done.

“I think I’m good to go, yeah,” he says, giving Davenport a little nod.

Having spent a cycle in ready-made pairs, the crew splits off quickly. 

Lup, as several months had seen her used to, clings tight to Taako.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Barry's back! But done doesn't seem to mean over...
> 
> We’ve tagged for PTSD as far back as Magnus’s first death, but I also feel like it’s important to say that if any of y’all find Barry’s feelings of anger, complicity, and guilt particularly resonant, you’re not alone, and you can get through this with help. This is really common especially with mental abuse, brainwashing, and religious trauma. Tell someone safe, and it will get better as you work through it, I promise.
> 
> SA: Do as we say, not as these fools do. Communication really is 9/10s of it. And as always, if we've missed any tags, let us know <3


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try as they might, sometimes folks just...talk right past each other. Or they would if they would TALK AT ALL!

\---CYCLE 17---

The crew spends a few days flying over the plane, surveying, looking for any signs of life. The place appears to be the remains of a once grand civilisation; meticulously engineered buildings on a tiered series of platforms, overrun by time. The lowest of three structural rings lies entirely submerged in a vast ocean, the upper two vacant. 

Then the Light falls. 

At least, the crew assumes it does. Days turn into weeks of vigilant watch, each coming up empty. The Light may be volatile, but over the years it has never once taken more than two weeks to fall. And the month is nearly up. 

Lup sets the second pot of coffee of the morning to brew, shaking her head to Davenport. "It must have just. Fallen on the wrong side. We can try to triangulate it, but it has to have fallen already, Cap. We can't keep waiting for it to come to us."

Barry stabs at the food left on his plate, half-listening. He knows the food tastes good. It used to taste better, though.

It tasted a lot better last year. In their apartment. Their home. Together. With his  _ wife _ .

Has it always taken this much energy just to exist? Would anything they did wind up useful anyway? Why bother?

But they do need to find the Light. They’ve got to do it, somehow, or else-- it’s hard to think about the nightmare that’s worse than his nightmares, don’t think about it.

What if they can’t, though? They die? The Hunger was awful, but it didn’t hurt, exactly, but it also  _ did, _ but you know what? It wouldn’t have if he truly believed in its cause. It only hurt because he didn’t buy in and work hard enough.

He could, though. Maybe? He could try.

Gods, what a fuckup, can’t even die properly. No wonder Lup can’t even look at him anymore, she’s valid. It was just death, surely it hadn’t been that bad, there’s no reason for him to be carrying on like--

He closes his eyes as the memory tries to surface, shoves it back under. Oh no. Absolutely the fuck not. He’s never going back there again, none of the crew is if he can help it. Lup and the others deserve a chance, better than a chance. So he’s gotta do it then, that’s it. They’re finding the Light and stopping this thing, end of discussion. 

“I can help with that,” he says, trying to sound enthusiastic but falling a little flat. Everything falls a little flat lately. It’s kind of a strain to commit to doing something. But he swallows down the last forkful and pushes back from the table, mechanically picking up his plate to carry back to the sink. Old habits.

"That'd be great, thanks, Barry." Lup settles with her mug at the table. Getting in the lab, running through some old formulas, it'd probably do them both some good. Like old times. 

Except for the part where she'd gotten him killed. But other than that. Old times. 

But they can figure that out later. After he's had a chance to recover and she figures out exactly how to say "I'm sorry for sending you into the heart of an indescribable nihilistic evil for three months and also I think I love you". Well. Maybe just that first part. Baby steps. 

She finishes her coffee, passing her mug off to Mags and Lucretia on dish duty. "If I'm late for sparring, feel free to come knocking. Might be a little lost in the sauce." She smiles, Magnus laughs, and she follows Barry down to the labs.

She didn’t shoo him out, anyway, that was something. Not that she could, really, he works there, but he’d’ve gone and figured something out. No need to just stand there in her face if she doesn’t want him there.

They head down to the labs and he starts to ready what they’ll need—notes from other planes, from scouting, from the Light itself.

Notes from Dusk, where they missed the Light for this long, too. Ah, fuck.

He tries a smile, she always seemed to meet his smile with one of her own, at least she used to.

“How’s uh, how’s your morning?” he tries. Gods, like strangers, less than that even. They felt closer the first time they met. This sucks.

She does return his smile, though hers seems preoccupied. "Good, good. Nothing special, y'know, 'nother day in paradise." Gods she feels awkward. Why is this so awkward? 

Right. 

Lup pulls up a chair, drags a hand through her hair. Just focus on the science, and things will fall into place. They always do. Maths are simple, discrete. Unaffected by guilt. Reliable. 

"How, uhh... How're you doing?" She hopes he understands the myriad of questions shoddily encompassed in one.  _ Are you sleeping? Does it hurt? Do you regret it? Do you regret me? _

_ Can you ever forgive me? _

Probably not. So she doesn't ask. She can't hear him say it, even if silence doesn't change the answer underneath.

That’s...not  _ bad,  _ Barry thinks. And it’s okay to go forward,  _ maybe. _

There’s a way of doing these things, after all. You can’t just fucking tapdance into someone’s face and tell them your problems, he knows this.

There’s a method; first, how are they? If they’re not okay, first you have to fix their thing, hold them or listen or do what it takes. That’s top priority, don’t run down someone who’s already hurting by adding your hurt to theirs.

If they’re good, are they celebrating? Got some good stuff going on? Don’t fuck that up with your selfish shit, celebrate with them.

If they’re normal good, are they busy? If so, help or fuck off. Come on, man.

Are they normal good and not busy? Did they ask you sincerely, ideally twice? Does it feel safe? Then confess.

Tell her.

_ I’ve loved you for years. I lived with you for nine months and died in your arms with zero regrets except that “I love you” was only halfway out of my mouth, but now I’m lonely and hurting and terrified that you don’t seem to want me anymore. Was it all just a game? Please don’t keep me in hell. _

_ Don’t leave me alone in the dark. _

“I’m…” A lump rises in Barry’s throat. He can’t--can’t say it, can’t even breathe around the words, and now he’s gonna panic--why can’t he just tell her? Why can’t he say what’s wrong? He tries to force the words out but he just. Can’t. “Getting by. Trying, anyway. Work is helping, a little,” he says. The tight feeling eases back. He can say that much, but not what’s important.

Coward.

Lup nods. Work is helping. Good. She can work with that. Being here, giving them both something to focus on, she can do that much. Hell, she's known to have her own workaholic tendencies-- she gets it. 

"Good. That's good. We've got a lot of it to do, so..." She sets up the notes they'd taken from the Light, updated with the end of the last cycle, between them. "I don't know that we have enough to track it without getting a trajectory, but... we can sure try, yeah?" Keep the tone light, be  _ chill _ . He doesn't need the stress she knows is radiating off of her. Just do the science.

Gods, what he’d give to break down in her arms and hear her tell him that even though she can’t make it okay, she’ll stay with him through it all.

She’s off put by the awful shit he’s been through, and done himself, too. That’s understandable.

It sucks though.

He’d take friendship, like maybe romance is off the table, but? They were so good as friends before, he’ll keep his hands and his lips and all of it to himself, swear to every god.

It’s—

It’s not fair of her. Not at all.

He fucking  _ died _ for her, did that mean nothing? As moves go, he pulled out all the stops, didn’t he now? Where do you even go from there? That’s the end of the line.

If dying for your love doesn’t get them to love you back, nothing will.

So it’s hopeless then.

Fuck.

Barry swallows down  _ anger (?!?!?) _ and turns to the work spread out in front of them. He can’t be angry, he’ll--he’s not sure what he’d do, and that’s terrifying. Best they find this godsdamn Light.

Even angry, he still doesn’t wish this shit on her. Finding the Light is their best chance of protection. She deserves safety. That’s all he ever wanted. It’s bullshit that that’s such a tall order most days-- shoving each other away from bullet-fire and late nights and picnics alone-- but here they are. They’ll just have to figure it out like always.

“So, then. What’ve we got, something closer to the third cycle than the seventh, huh?” he says, tone falsely light. Just get through this.

Okay, so maybe he doesn't want to talk. That's okay, that's fine. Really. They don't need to talk. 

Work helps. So they'll work. 

She can do that. 

Lup nods, pointing out a series of equations with her pencil. "Exactly. Well, not exactly, but pretty close. This is, uhmm. This is as far as I got on triangulation last... last cycle. It's not, I mean it's not  _ done _ , obviously, but it's farther than we were? Still relies on fall trajectory though."

She sighs. This isn't going to work. They don't have enough information to find the Light this way. They'd be better off pulling numbers from their collective ass and plugging those into the equation. 

But work helps. That's as much as he's given her, so that's what they'll do. 

"I guess... I mean maybe we can try to finagle some sort of... mean-trajectory? From the cycles we have data on? Or... I don't know. We can just treat this bit here as if it's actually  _ done _ , rearrange the equation for Y, and... hope it can get us close enough?" She drags her hands under her glasses. They'll figure something out. Even if it's just a distraction.

Barry pulls his glasses off his face with his whole fucking hand and puts his head down on his arms for a second.

She's not  _ doing _ the  _ thing. _

Also that's not a lot of information, there's no fucking way they're finding the Light from these numbers.

But she's not  _ doing _ the  _ fucking thing. _

She's supposed to like...since she's normal-good and they're not busy yet, she should pick up the tension in his frame and the  _ knowledge that he fucking died _ and press him gently to make sure he's okay, so that he can fall apart.

Isn't it obvious that he's woken himself from nightmares more nights than not this past month?

He groans slightly, then picks his head up. "We could do that, or just fucking scout on foot, I guess," he says irritatedly. "Had to be on the other side, didn't it? Ugh."

She very nearly reaches out, just a hand at his back in reassurance that even if they don't get it, they'll be alright. 

But she doesn't. It's not her place. 

Instead, she returns his exasperation with a sigh of her own. "Yeah, really had to fuck us this time, huh? But hey, it'll be a... like a puzzle. We can just, see how far we can get with what we have, and... I mean who knows, we might get somewhere. Just gotta stick our heads together, yeah? Maybe if we focus on what  _ won't _ work, we can narrow down what might. Cause cha'girl is  _ not _ scouting this whole-ass place on foot." She tries for a convincing smile. It doesn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah, we gotta," Barry agrees.

They could...maybe get in a Tiny Hut and just...no one leaves until it's figured out.

Gods, he'd cry. She'd cry. It'd just be all tears, all the time, until the truth came out: she doesn't feel that same way he does, on account of how he's a mess, and also definitely did some unnamed offense he doesn't know to be sorry for.

If he was a better person he'd know and be sorry and make it right and do better. It's his fault.

He's just gonna lie on the ground until the cycle's over. Just fucking look at the ceiling.

Ridiculous. He can't shake the fact that he loves her, nor the fact that the others are counting on them both. He can’t just give up and throw a pity party, anyhow. Priorities, Barry.

Focusing on what won't work might be something, though. These equations might not work for the Light. Not talking probably won't work for them.

He nervously taps his fingers on the table. "Can I ask--did I miss a lot after...? Like I know we got the Light, and Luce mentioned the Thrall cleared, but I haven't been able to...you know?"

Did he miss anything? 

Lup's breath stays stuck in her throat for an agonizing moment.

He was--  _ three months _ , and he--

"Yeah, no, uhmm..." How to even begin to answer that, without burdening him with the hell that had been her last three months. She can't just out and say she doesn't  _ know _ what he missed, because she spent her time wallowing and mourning and diving into work. But she can't  _ lie _ . That won't help anyone. 

"We didn't, uhmm, stay, really. I-- I moved back here pretty quick, so. I'm not really sure? After a while they-- the town, I mean-- just sort of. Stopped bothering." She fidgets, doodling on the corner of a notebook. Little granny-squares. "Mags tried to get copies of like, all the films that came out after. I think he's got like, a horde of them somewhere. There wasn't much for me to do research-wise in the city without the Light, and they were kind of..." 

She shakes her head. "Anyway. Got as much data as I could while we had it. Missed me kick Dav's ass at Blitz. Just the once, but. It's the little things." She shrugs. "Nothin' super big, though."

She moved back to the ship. That makes sense, in three possible ways. Either it was too dangerous to stay, or too painful with him gone, or...

Or she didn't really want to be there in the first place. There's that.

But the town left her alone. After a while. Did they try to hassle her? Drag her through the courts, try to--

Oh,  _ fuck. _ Did they try to rematch her?

Did she do it?

_ Lup and Lucretia had a hard time, _ Davenport had said. Because they'd both left spouses behind.

Didn't she feel like she could tell him? He was dead, at the time, it's not like he was around to object, or even like he'd ever had any real claim on her. He'd--not  _ like _ the idea, he’d be worried for her matching with a near-stranger like that, but he'd be supportive, she wasn't his to tie down unless she wanted to be.

Did she regret him, though? Did he waste her time, keep her from a better match? Did she say yes to him when she'd rather say yes to someone else, just because he was there? A default? The idea makes his skin crawl, nothing short of  _ want _ feels good.

He swallows. "That sounds like...I mean, Dav's brutal at Blitz, good on you," he jokes. Gods, he'd give anything for the easy familiarity they used to have. "I can't wait to see what you found."

Lup smiles, and almost means it. "Yeah, I uhh, I'm not sure how he got so good but. Maybe we'll get a game going sometime?" She scratches down the corner of a lopsided square. 

It goes without saying, but her head’s already back in that place, "We missed ya." She turns her attention to her notes, well aware that her ears are pressing dangerously low to read comfortable. It's too much, she should leave it. "Just. 'S real good to have you back, y'know?" 

She copies out one of the formulas, and begins paging through a notebook. "I'm uhh, gonna see about that mean. It's probably nothing, but. Worth a shot as anything, right?"

Barry swallows. That'll have to be enough. He wants everything, he'll take anything.

"I--" he clears his throat. "I don't think I--could miss people, there. It was--that didn't work? For me. A lot of things, like feelings things, didn't work. But. When I came back, I felt like I had been missing you, too, all that time and didn't know. Gods, that doesn't make sense," he says frustratedly.

He can't begin to tell her about all of it, but dammit he still misses her. She's right there, doodling at a lab table and looking tense and sad and he misses her.

"No, no... It doesn't, but. Doesn't mean it isn't true." It's not what she wants to say, that she'd wondered day and night where in that thing he was.  _ If _ he was, in any recognisable way. Davenport didn't talk about his time there more than enough for them to know that there was one. And that it was hell. 

But if Barry can talk about it, she can listen.

The crew knew it would take time. It had taken Magnus time to return to himself, even after only hours spent there. Davenport took longer; that was expected. Two extremes, two ends of a spectrum they had no way of judging. 

And then there's Barry. Taken suddenly, in a moment of fear and confusion. Lup can't begin to understand what existing in the Hunger might be like, she doesn't  _ want _ to know. She deserves to. 

It should have been her. 

She slides over another volume of notes to Barry. "If you want to help me pull the trajectories from these, that'd be great. And if you have any other ideas that  _ aren't _ a backpacking trip, I'm all ears." She starts taking down numbers, trying not to worry just how much he resents her.

Oh.  _ Ohhhhh. _ It all clicks for Barry in a second. "Yeah, the mean, I’m on it. Good place to start; gotta start somewhere," he agrees awkwardly.

She’s uncomfortable with his pain, that makes sense. Lots of people are uncomfortable with others’ pain, especially when it’s a big one like death or major illness or any number of horrific things people do to each other, he doesn’t really blame her. 

Usually Barry pushes through that to listen and help, but he can’t expect that everyone will. That’s some kind of next-level caring stuff; he wouldn’t presume to ask, except that it had seemed like she had been willing to face the dark stuff with him before.

There’s the line, then, where it gets too real, too  _ close. _ And just because he’d cross it for her doesn’t mean she has to for him.

This isn’t her pulling the rug out from under him on purpose, it’s him fastening the rug to her ankle and crying like a dipshit when it gets yanked. His fault, his unwarranted expectations, his unjustified attachment. Plus, doesn’t she have enough to deal with, if she did lose someone back there? She’s grieving, for fuck’s sake!

He starts to page through for the trajectories she wants. Maybe later they can work some more on  _ tracking _ the thing. Maybe, if they can find it first.

Pulling past trajectories from old notes, plugging them in, hoping for the best-- it doesn't take much time. They get to work, break for lunch, and get to work again, only for Lup to realise that they're quickly running out of work to get back to. The mean trajectory is nothing; the curvatures of each planet and the variance on the ships comparative descent just don't allow for a neat mean to be taken and applied. They still try, over and over, tweaking equations in futile attempts until finally Lup throws in the towel for the night. 

And the next night. 

And the next. 

Nothing. Works. 

Taako does his best to cheer Lup up, citing that at the very least the place looks uninhabited. If they can't get the Light, at least there's no one here for the Hunger to claim. It doesn't help. 

Barry tries. He really does; he wakes up in the morning—which apparently happens  _ every _ morning with the difficulty set on max now—and goes to work, shuffling numbers in and out of equations and trying to think of some other way.

There’s gotta be something, but Barry’s not sure they’ll ever find out what.

He can tell Lup’s trying, too. And she’s putting up with his whole mess, so he can’t really be too upset about the tension that never fully unwinds. He just wishes it...Wasn’t. Like that. And for true love and untold riches and a pony, while he’s at it.

Frustration finds Lup where it always does, some weeks later-- curled up on the deck, bundled in that massive quilt, searching the stars for answers. Maybe they'll spell out a map to the Light, or at the very least some recipe for healing the hurt she's caused. Somehow the latter seems most futile. 

She should return the blanket. She will, well, she'd intended to. She'd waited for the right time, for when they might have that talk they'd wanted to, or at least  _ a _ talk of some sort. But the time never came, and now it's... well it's just awkward. Maybe she'll sneak it into his room at some point, avoid the whole conversation. 

After tonight. Right now, Lup could use the reminder of better times. And everyone's asleep anyways. Tomorrow, maybe.

Barry can’t move his arms. Or his legs. Or his anything.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean they’re not moving. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop what they’re  _ doing. _

“Stop it! I don’t want to!”

But that doesn’t stop his fist from going through the window, why is he so  _ big? _ How can he break so  _ much? _

“I’m not gonna! Give me back, let me go!”

He tries to hold very still, but the people are still knocked down, screaming. They’re hurt, there’s blood, he hurt them—

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—let me help, I can  _ help— _ “

His hands betray him, he’s making it worse, he’s killing them, they’re afraid. The ones who can still run, do. Tears stream down Barry’s face.

“It’s not me! I don’t want it! I don’t want it! I don’t—“

Barry wakes up on the floor of his room. He’s managed to beat the shit out of a pillow. It’s soaked through with saltwater.

He hauls himself to his feet. His throat is dry, it  _ hurts _ like he’s been screaming. He doesn’t know whether he was.

He shoves his glasses on and heads for the kitchen. He downs a glass of water. Then another. He heads back to his room but halfway there, he stops.

The deck door is open? Like someone didn’t want to get locked out. He cautiously swings it wider, squinting into the night. Is anyone out there?

He can barely make out a lump, all crocheted blanket and pointed ears on top. The sight feels like a knife of longing and nostalgia.

Lup, stargazing. Wrapped in his blanket. The way it should be, but also, somehow, the way it’s not.

She almost doesn't notice the light flick on from inside, a spot of light on the deck growing wider with the inaudible creak of the door. Not Taako then, whoever it is, if they've taken the time to turn on lights. Maybe Merle, come to urge her inside as he had so many times over the last few months. "Catching a cold won't fix anything, kid." But neither would reading the same three books over again. At least the stars weren't too familiar. 

Whoever it is, they don't need to waste time worrying about her. She can handle a little less sleep, trance if she has to. The rest of the crew doesn't have that evolutionary luxury. 

"I'm alright, I'll be in in a minute," she calls, wraps her arms around her knees. At least half of it is true.

Barry stands frozen in the doorway. He wants to go to her, tuck himself in by her side where it’s safe. Going into this darkness, toward her, is nothing compared to the kind of darkness that awaits him back in his bedroom.

He’s not sure he’s welcome. They’ve done this together before, true, but that was before. It was different, now that he’d broken everything.

Wait a minute. The blanket is his, can he not use it as he pleases, stargaze in it at will? Can she not just shoo him away if she wants? Surely she can speak for herself. He should just go over there and who knows? Maybe he’s just out here to stargaze also, separately, coincidentally, it’s fine.

He takes a deep breath and approaches her slowly, not bothering to be quiet or light on his feet. He doesn’t want to sneak up on her, but there’s always that risk; she may think he’s gone back inside.

He taps her shoulder. “Uh...” What does he even say? “Couldn’t sleep?”

Lup sighs, turning to the hand on her shoulder, "I said don't worry, I'll--"

_ Barry? _

She balks a long moment, then scrambles to her feet, all elf in the headlights, wide eyes finding no good way out of this situation. 

_ Ohh gods, his blanket, fuck, he's caught me and deffo thinks I'm straight up creepy. I've got his blanket and fuckin-- he's caught me just sitting out here in it like a creep _ ...

"I-- gods, sorry, I-- This is-- I meant to-- I didn't--"  _ Fuck. _ She tugs the blanket off, hastily pressing it into his arms. "This is yours. I should. I'm gonna--  _ Sorry _ ." 

And she bolts, back through the open door, into the harsh light of the ship. 

Coward.

Barry stands still, arms full of blanket, mouth open in shock.

The absolute  _ last _ thing he expected was for Lup Tacco to  _ run away. _

He’s never seen her run away before, except—

Except from the Hunger.

Dammit. Of course she ran from him.

He squeezes the blanket close. It doesn’t really smell neutral, anymore. It used to, though that probably meant it smelled like him and he didn’t notice. It smells like her now, too. It reminds him of tickling and movies and research and margaritas. This blanket used to be on a couch and the couch was  _ theirs, _ and there it was, draped over the back, waiting to keep them warm and cozy when it was cold out or hide under during a scary movie or for him to pull over his  _ wife _ when she fell asleep reading—

Well. He doesn’t have a wife now. The woman who used to be his wife ran away and left him alone in the dark.

He turns and dashes inside.

Barry doesn’t go back to bed right away. It isn’t like he’ll be able to sleep. He heads back to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and rummaging around until he finds some chamomile tea, then zoning out until the steam whistling brings him back to reality. He pours himself a mug, then pads barefoot to the couch.

He turns on a lamp, curls up on the couch under the blanket in the pool of light, clutching his mug where it rests on the side table. He stares at the wall, not really seeing it, the scent of the chamomile mingling with her scent on the blanket.

So. So, that hurt.

He shakes himself out of the daze several hours later, exhausted and clutching a cold cup of tea.

Her bedroom door can't hiss closed quickly enough. Lup's already pressing her back against it as it slides into place, dragging both hands through her hair.  _ What the absolute fuck was that _ . 

He didn't look mad. 

That's the weirdest part of it all. He caught her, well and truly caught her in the act, steeping herself in a moment of familiar comfort that she didn't deserve, with his damned quilt as a crutch. 

And he didn't look mad. 

She should go back. She should apologise properly, take whatever telling off his shock had postponed, and come back to bed with her tail properly between her legs, like she deserved. 

Instead, Lup thinks over how that conversation might go, over and over and over again, until she wakes up to sunlight streaming in her window, and no warm quilt locked tight in her arms. 

_ Coward _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new cycle means new playlists!
> 
> From ST: [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/502JiIFFTxk8B3nlc82N5b)  
> Remember folks, your friends love you but you should use words about it ideally!  
> From SA: [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2X1VJ8Es4LR6wVlyVoetuN)  
> Gods, these fools can be insufferable sometimes. And a little too relateable.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always good to be able to count on your friends to hear you out and nudge you in the right direction.

The next day sees Lup uncharacteristically late to breakfast. She takes Taako's scolding look, up until her suggestion wipes it off of his face. 

"You want help with your-- what'd ya call it, picking? I can't keep sitting in the lab, Ko. We're getting nowhere." She pours a massive cup of coffee, and patently ignores it, leaning against the counter beside him. "Please, anything to feel productive."

Taako’s irritation over Lup’s lateness softens almost immediately. She looks like hell. There’s been no progress on the Light, and she and Barold  _ still _ have something off between them. 

Taako doesn’t like it. Lup doesn’t do this. Lup’ll eviscerate your ass in five minutes and when she’s done, make up quick. But it’s been weeks and weeks now, with no change that Taako can see. He can’t for the life of him nail down just what’s gone wrong between the two of them...but he’s gonna.

“Yeah, I figure we can go scrapping and get shit to repair the ship when it breaks, be a lot easier. Maybe we’ll find some good shit out there,” he says.

"Awesome. Sick. When do we leave?" She plucks a strip of bacon from his plate and dunks it in her coffee. There are no rules when it comes to breakfast.

When she goes to let Barry in on their day off of physics, she doesn't actually find him at the table. Huh. 

She taps Magnus on their way out. "Hey, Ko and I are taking a scrapping trip; you mind letting Barry know if you see him? Don't want him waiting in the lab all day."

He nods, looking around. "Yeah, sure. I'll uhh, I check in with him. You know if he's up?"

"Dunno. I'll see ya later, though-- stir-fry sound good?" She gives him a grin, and Taako taps her to head out.

“So turns out,” Taako says as they head out, “talked to the robot folks here, there’s a whole bunch of stuff down a level, no one cares about it, it’s just abandoned. Figure we can go see what’s good there.”

He turns over in his mind how to ask her. Maybe get a little further out first, away from nosy crewmates.

"Hell yeah sounds like a plan. You lead the way, bro-bro, I'm just like, support 'n stuff." Lup slings a big, mostly-empty bag over her shoulder. This'll be nice. Just some good old-fashioned Twin Time™️™️™️, a well-deserved break from the Everything that's getting them Nowhere. 

It's tempting, as they walk, to peek over the edge of the world. Lup knows that's not really what it is, just a city structured well above the rest of this plane, left to stand as an island above the waterlogged entirety. But it feels like it, looking out over a seemingly endless ocean. It's a kind of void, in its own way. One more easily traversable than what Barry had been subject to, she reminds herself. This one though, she can at least see the surface of. Dip her toes in. 

It's not the same. It's not the same at all. 

Maybe they'll find something though. "Your robot friends tell you a good way to get down there? I'm not really feeling like a swim in there today..."

"Yeah, it's not all the way down, just a level, there's like stairs off this way," Taako explains.

He looks around, peeking behind them. Should be good. "So no progress in the lab?" he asks. There we go, let's see which question she picks out of that first.

Lup nods and follows his lead. "Ahh, cool cool cool. Yeah, no... There's just. Taako, there's no way we're finding that thing. Unless we look this whole place over with a fine-toothed comb, I just..." 

She sighs. They can't just give up. But what's that whole thing about insanity, doing the same shit and hoping it goes different? There's no way they can figure this out without that trajectory. And there's no way they're getting that. "The robits still haven't seen anything? Not that they'd necessarily say if they had..."

"Still nothing from them," Taako sighs. Merle and Lucretia especially had been talking to a lot of the robots here, learning from them, hearing their stories. No stories about the Light falling, unfortch.

They could keep hoping that that route would pan out in the future, but... Lup knows it's hopeless. She doesn't want to admit it, but she knows. 

Taako pauses. "How about in the lab with Barold? He's...you two seem different, and he seems pretty fucked up. Did you fight? Or is it just, dying...?" he says.

She pauses in the stairwell. "I mean. He's been through...  _ literal _ hell, Ko. Can't expect him to just like. Bounce back." Lup shakes her head, keeps heading down the crumbling steps. "I think... y'know, having something to work on? I think it's helping, maybe. 'S why it's so, y'know... I just don't wanna give up on this triangulation thing. I think it's good for him. I dunno."

Taako nods. "He has," he agrees. "But I just expected--Lulu, you two were joined at the hip even before you were fake married. If I wasn't your dearest, darlingest brother and totally secure in that, I'd be jealous. You two barely look each other in the eye now, what gives? Did he ask you for space to figure his shit out? 'Cause it was right off, soon as he was back, I can't for the life of me figure out when you two would've had time to get in a snit with each other."

"What, no... No I just. I mean I figured..."  _ Did he ask for space? _ Did he have to? Gods, she can't imagine, having to see her every day? Isn't that awful enough without her jumping in as though nothing had changed? 

"Taako,  _ everything's _ different. I-- He  _ died _ ? Ko? And  _ I'm _ the reason. Like... that's... I don't blame him for being pissy-- hell, I'm surprised he's even down to work together in the lab now. I got him  _ killed _ . You can't just... expect that to be forgiven."

Ah. Okay. So that's it.

"Has he been pissy? Chewed you out or somethin'? Like I guess you're right, he'd be kinda valid to be pissed, dyin' and everything. I guess I didn't realize he was mad about it, the way you told me when it happened I thought he like, made the call and pushed you out of the way, y'know, that kinda thing."

Well. "I mean, yeah. He did. But like. That's not the  _ point _ . It was still  _ my fault _ , y'know?" They break out of the covered stairwell, and Lup gives a shove to some debris to clear their way. 

The second level of the city is  _ littered _ with... well, everything. Vehicles sit rusted and neglected in various states of disrepair, shop and house windows stand empty, shattered glass clinging to the perimeters like so many sharpened teeth. It's the scene of chaos, long since passed. 

It's heartbreaking. 

"Anyway, it's just... Best to just. Not make him deal with me for a bit. Y'know? Can't keep burdening the guy, especially  _ now _ ."

Taako purses his lips and looks around. That seems like bullshit, quite honestly. "I mean...like it was Kevin's fault, really, right? If he blames you...that seems pretty shitty, not gonna lie. Like really shitty. I kinda figured when he came back he'd be fucked up, Mags was, and Dav, but I guess I just kinda assumed you two would hug and cry or whatever the fuck and that would help and he'd get on it healing-wise. I didn't figure it'd suck for you guys like this. Like Mags...he needed a lot of listening time, y'know, stuff like that, he didn't like being alone after that for a good long while," he says.

"Yeah, but... I mean just cause that Kevin guy pulled the trigger doesn't mean I wasn't the reason he did." She sighs. She'd be lying to say she hadn't hoped for the same, that they'd have a good long cry or yell, and everything could just go back to how it was. But their life isn't a Haalmark™️ movie, things don't work out all neat and perfect. People do stupid shit, like get their friends killed, and have to deal with the consequences. 

Still sucks, though.

"Maybe you could... I dunno, talk to him? See if he'll talk to you more than he will to me? I don't think I'm the right person to keep prying at it." She kicks a bit of cobble down the street. Not so much as a rat skitters about at the sound. Gods, it's like a ghost town.

Taako considers this. "I mean, he's my friend, yeah, I'll talk to him. But you two...I mean if you feel that bad about it, did you try to apologize? 'Cause like, it can't be good for him to be down a friend and so fucked up. Mags needed all of us, remember how he flinched at everything for so long? Dav too? Remember how Mags just like...couldn't take orders for a while, everything had to be his idea, or least he had to think so? I can't even figure what Barold  _ needs, _ but it's gotta be something, and it can’t possibly be just pretending everything’s fine, y'know?"

"I don't know either, Ko... He said work helped? So I've tried to help keep him busy, but I don't think it's doing as much good as he says." For their triangulation  _ or _ sanity. Hopefully taking this day away from the numbers helps either of them. Worth a bit of hope, even as she's trying not to run out of it. 

"I'll keep trying, I guess. I just think, y'know, somebody else might have better luck." Someone who's heart doesn't shatter every time he can't meet their eyes.

Taako nudges her affectionately. “Good. ‘Cause him being fucked up is fucking you up and I don’t play that shit. I’ll talk to him too, just...I don’t know. See if I can’t get him to talk a little, figure out what helps. Mags used to get weird and just wanna bear hug the shit out of me and breathe for a little while, hell, whatever weird little thing works, I guess.”

Lup rolls her eyes, but wraps an arm over his shoulders. "Yeah, I don't know that a bear hug is the answer here, but... whatever works. Thanks, Ko." She hangs on him for a moment, annoying and heavy as only a sister is allowed to be. She can't imagine this is what Barry needs, nor that she should be the one to give it if it is. But at this point, who's to say? 

"Wanna go pillage that library-lookin' thing? Last one to break in's a rotten egg."

\--

When Barry finally drags himself to breakfast, he’s immediately roped into helping Magnus with a giant arm he’s trying to attach to the ship.

Barry is only a little skeptical, after a look at the plans. The arm may or may not work, but it couldn’t hurt to try. As they work, Barry asks Magnus. “So Lup said she’s doing something with Taako?” he asks.

Magnus nods, and a piece of chalk falls from behind his ear. "Yeah, they said something about lookin' for building supplies? Which, if we ever have to look at repairs bigger than Dusk? I'm all for having supplies on hand." 

He checks the measurements on the blueprints they're working from, pointing on the ship with another piece of chalk. "Y'think here'll leave enough room for the landing gears? If the base is five meters... Should be good, yeah?"

Barry compares the spot to the blueprints. “I think it’ll just clear—like look, it’ll come right down this way, that’s a good three inches actually, should be good,” he agrees.

It’s good that Lup and Taako are out getting building materials. They need their twin time, and surely they’ll find good stuff. Better that she’s not stuck in a lab with him doing the same math in different ways and never getting a helpful answer.

“I, uh, we haven’t hung out a lot, this year, how, uh, how’s it going for you? Just, building an arm, or—?” Barry asks.

Magnus marks out the spot for the top of the arm to sit, nodding to himself. "Yeah, yeah... okay cool." From that point, mapping out where the rest of the arm should sit doesn't take too much mental work. 

"I've been trying to talk to the locals too, yeah, but this is honestly the most I've gotten from 'em. How've you been doin', bud?"

“I, uh,” Barry begins, then tries again. “Adjusting, I guess. It’s, I don’t know, probably I’m fine, I mean my whole body’s reset, right? I’m alive.”

It’s sweet of Mags to ask, but. Does he really want to know how dark it’s been lately? Or does he just want to confirm that Barry can stay upright and move in a generally forward direction? The second one’s good enough.

Magnus looks uncertain. "I mean, yeah, but. Your body's not really... what was in there? 'Least, I don't think mine was?" He sits on a rung of the ladder propped up against the ship's hull, letting Barry have the full force of his skepticism. 

"I mean, I can't really  _ say _ ? Like, I wasn't there as long as Dav or you, but. Didn't feel like my body, y'know?" He takes a beat, really looks over Barry. Yeah, he looks beat, but not in a way that comes from the outside. Yeah, he's fine. But he's definitely not  _ fine _ . 

"I mean, I don't know if your whole... thing? Was like mine. But. If it was? You're allowed to be a little fucked up for a while. I definitely was."  _ Am _ , some days. The nightmares never really did stop. "Like, if there's something we can do, you know we'll do it, right?"

"I know that, it's just...I kinda think it's not fair for you guys to have to listen to me cry about it when it's over and I'm back, you know. Like I know you and Dav know what it's like, Merle too, but the rest don't, why should they have to suffer? I hope they never do, you know," Barry says.

"And then, you know, it's a new cycle, we're back on the ship, not the apartments, it's different. Just...an adjustment, you know." He shrugs.

He raises an eyebrow, taken aback. "I mean, yeah, but... Barry, dude, we're here for you? Like it's not fair that  _ any _ of this shit happened. And like, listening? If that's what you need? That's nothing, that's easy." 

Magnus picks up a bit of chalk from the ground, lets it trail white dust in his fingers. "Remember the second year? Right at the beginning, I felt so annoying. But you guys didn't act like it at all. Even Taako let me hug, which, back then?" He laughs, "Still wild to me. But he did. And like, when Dav came back? Or other stuff, like Merle after Fungston, or Lup losing you, like. We've gotta help each other out when we can, y'know? Cause this shit's  _ hard _ , and it's gonna get harder, probably." He shrugs. "It's just what you do. It's no trouble, when it's family."

_ Lup losing...? _

Losing him?

They had all lost him, though. And she said they didn't hurt her, unless...

Unless losing him hurt her. But she would've said, wouldn't she? Wouldn't she have run to him and held him and maybe smacked him and yelled never to die again or something? That's what she did with Magnus after the first cycle.

"Was Lup...was she okay, after? She said they didn't hurt her, but you know sometimes she just sort of goes and goes," he says. He's not sure he's ready to hear about her moving on, but it's probably better than whatever his imagination supplies.

For the look on Magnus’s face, it's like Barry's asked him for help with some Light physics.  _ Baffled. _

"Dude, she was... She didn't tell you?" He lets out a long puff of breath. "She took it real rough. Taako basically stayed with her for a week straight, couldn't get the guy to come home. Like we all missed you, don't get me wrong, but... Lup got it hard." He shakes his head. "She tell you they tried to rematch her? Gods, the  _ earful _ she gave that poor lady, thought I was gonna have to hold her back. Damn firecracker."

_ She didn't rematch? _

So the hard time Dav told him about was from losing  _ him? _ Then why wouldn't she talk to him? They hadn't even hugged, it had been weeks and weeks, she  _ ran _ from him! She barely even spoke to him, and it  _ hurt, _ it hurt worse than dying, worse than the Hunger. He'd done truly awful things, he was maybe a truly awful person now, maybe had been before, but having her cut this tie hurt worse than all of it.

"I didn't...she didn't tell me. She's kinda--" he swallows. "She won't really talk to me. It--I don't know, she just won't. I'm worried maybe, I don't know, she said the fake affection stuff was cool, but maybe I made it awkward?"

If Magnus's eyebrows could raise any higher, they'd fly straight off his face. " _ Fake? _ You're-- wait. You're tellin' me you guys weren't just... like  _ really _ , y'all didn't...  _ what? _ " He chuckles incredulously, "Shoulda taken Taako up on that bet, huh? 

"I'm not gonna pretend to know what's up with Lup, but like? I mean has she checked in with you at all? 'S not like her to not  _ care _ . Did you guys like... fight or something?"

Oh, hold  _ on, _ does Magnus think-- _ hold on, _ does this mean he and Taako--? Dammit, what could've been. Okay, so he and Lup had maybe been more convincing a couple than Barry thought. That's fair, all of the affection from his side was real, only disguised as fake and then re-disguised as real.

"We weren't like, really together, you know, she just grabbed my arm right quick, I figured she didn't wanna be with a stranger who might not want to just fake it, you know? Like at least we could trust each other," he says. "We didn't have a fight, I actually thought we were closer as friends than ever, but then I died and when I got back just...nothing. She'll answer work questions and make small talk, but it feels...cold. Not like Lup."

"Not like Lup." Magnus agrees. "That's  _ weird _ . I mean. I can try to see if anything else is up? Like, have you tried asking her? Like." He sighs. 

"Three months, bud. Like y'know when Dav was gone? And like. Some of us got. Real fucked up that year. Didn't  _ die _ , but like. Still fucked up. Cause... bad stuff didn't quit happening just cause he was gone, y'know? And obviously he needed us  _ more _ , or whatever, when he got back, but like. I dunno, man.  _ Okay's _ a bit of a rare commodity anymore." He runs a hand through his hair, streaking it with chalk dust. With the greyed parts, it's easier to see the years in him. Not on his face, still twenty-something after all this time, but his eyes show it. He knows this; he can see it in the rest of the crew. The cycles don't leave nothing behind.

"I--hmmm." Barry pauses. "I haven't really asked her, it doesn't feel like she really wants to talk about anything that's not work, or normal stuff like...necessary stuff? Only necessary stuff, it doesn't feel like it would be okay for me to ask."

Barry remembers when Dav died. His death left the crew without a leader, and without their friend. Dusk was a hard plane, dark so much of the time, and the hostility from the village leading them nearly to starvation. But it had also had some of the sweetest times. Lup had led him through the darkness and held him while he cried there, and he'd fallen in love with her. That hadn't changed. He's still in love with her, this wouldn't hurt so bad if he wasn't.

Sometimes it's hard to believe it's been sixteen full years and a bit since they left home. Sometimes, Barry can feel every second in his bones. Sometimes, it feels like even longer, and Barry isn't sure what's real. He wishes he did know what was real. "Mags, is it--” he begins tentatively. “When you came back, did it ever just feel like you were gonna be sick over and over? Or that all you could manage was to just stare at the wall, or that regular showers weren't  _ enough? _ "

Magnus takes a heavy breath, settles his arms on his knees. "Or like they were too much, too. Like everyone ya look at can see right into you, even with all your clothes on. Like all the worst thoughts you ever had were just... right out there for the world to see. Yeah." He nods, tries for a strained smile that just ends up pressing his mouth in a tight line. 

"I still have nightmares about that place. Woke up with the curtains open once? Middle of the night? Saw the stars outside and just--" he snaps, "Right back in it. It gets better, but... don't think it goes away."

Barry nods. That's it, that's what it feels like. Direct access to the worst parts of himself, being overloaded with  _ want _ .

Barry never really knew  _ want _ before. His mother had always made sure they had  _ enough _ , though they never really seemed to have extra, and though Barry had realized later that  _ enough _ was subject to definition, and the way most others used it did mean more than he was accustomed to. When he'd grown up, it had been pretty close to the same, sufficient, but economical. He'd realized very young that the easiest way to keep everyone around him happiest was not to want much at all. No special requests, no extra, no inconvenience beyond what was strictly necessary to keep one Barry alive.

The Hunger is different. Wanting what you need when you don't have it, like regular hunger before a meal, is one thing. Desperately craving  _ more _ , always  _ more, everything _ is different. Inside it, Barry had wanted so bad it  _ hurt _ .

And it had opened his eyes to discontent and a desperate willingness to do anything at all to assuage it, no matter if it hurt others.

"I still have nightmares, too, and can't think straight. Everything takes twice the energy." He pauses. "I'll try to talk about it when I need to, it's just...it's a lot. It sucks."

"It does. It will. It'll get easier though. And one a these days? We're gonna beat that thing," Magnus says.  _ We have to _ , he doesn't. 

He's quiet for another long minute, fidgeting with the chalk in his hand. "You know, if I didn't know better... Maybe she's just readin' what you're puttin' out. 'S not the most fun to talk about, I think everyone's figured that by now, so like. I wouldn't want to be the one to bring it up, cause a bad time about it." He shrugs. "I think we're all here to listen though, if that's what ya need. Just say the word." He puts a big hand on Barry's shoulder, gives it a pat. "'S what friends are for."

Sixteen years and change is a long time to run. It's not the end, not by a long shot. They all know it, even if they don't acknowledge it. There's always that hope that the next one will be the last. It never is, but one of these times it's gotta give. 

Eternity's gonna be a long fuckin' time to run. 

Magnus heaves himself up, arms outstretched, faux-resignation cracking with the smile he's got. "Can I hug? Cause I think ya need a hug, and I  _ always _ need a hug, and unless you're opposed, I think I'm legally required to hug ya." It's the closest he'll come to just picking Barry up entirely-- Davenport had given him a stern reminder about consensual bearhugs after landing, but old habits do take a minute. Baby steps. It's what they're all working with.

“Yeah, I do need one,” Barry says, and the next thing he knows he’s wrapped in one of Magnus’s signature bear hugs, clinging tight.

It helps a lot, makes him feel more like a person and like he doesn’t have to be the  _ only _ person. Gods, he’s been so lonely, and no one ever seems to really touch him these days. He wonders if it’s just from being used to tangling up snuggly with Lup for so many months and now  _ not _ doing that or whether he truly does touch less than before that. 

Either way, this helps.

“I kinda always need hugs, too,” he mumbles against Magnus’s shoulder. He does. It’s one of the first steps toward comforting him from even a small hurt, and it’s been missing. He’ll have to try to do better about asking. He’s pretty sure (at least now, and could maybe convince himself later) that this want won’t hurt anyone.

Magnus threatens to squeeze the air out of him, in the comforting way only he can, big ol hands patting Barry's back. It's good to be wanted, feeling like he's maybe doing something to help. Better to know that the Hunger didn't take Barry's ability to receive a good hug. 

"I'm always down to give one, so just. Let me know, yeah?" He loosens his hold, letting Barry be the one to pull away when he's ready. "You still up to draft this arm? Or should we... screw work and make milkshakes before the Twins get back to yell at us for making a mess?" Something about his tone implies Magnus favours the latter.

_ Maybe if he makes a big enough mess she’ll notice, _ is the childish thought that occurs to him. That’s ridiculous, but also maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just where Barry is right now.

“Milkshakes‘ll probably destroy me, but a big loud mess sounds about right, let’s do it,” he says, actually managing a smile. The arm can wait til later, they have plenty of time.

Maybe they even have plenty of time for all of this awkwardness and pain to soothe. Barry ponders this as he helps gather up blueprints and chalk. He hopes so.

"We've got that fancy milk, you'll be  _ fine _ . C'mon." He returns the smile, tucking a roll of blueprints under his arm, and hangs the other over Barry's shoulders, tugging him along. 

It is a  _ royal _ mess. Ice cream and chocolate and sprinkles abound. Magnus even finds a sleeve of Thin Mintz™️ in the freezer and steals a few for a minty-chocolatey monstrosity. The final products? Beautiful. Incredible. Showstopping. 

The aftermath strewn about the countertop? 

Well. The Twins'll forgive them. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Finally a bit of progress! Just a little more...  
> SA: Two steps forward, one step back... but that's still forward, right?


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes "obvious" is subjective. Apparently.

The milkshakes help almost as much as the hug. Barry doesn't often feel like a person these days, but he's kinda getting close as he focuses on finding a balance between too thick and too thin, and debates over how many types and sources of chocolate are allowed in a single milkshake (no upper limit, unless you're a _coward_ ). He even laughs. Gods, it's been so long since he's really _laughed_.

They sit in the kitchen, slurping the milkshakes, Magnus talking about dogs he's known. Pity they don't have a dog here, a little furry friend would probably do them all some good. Barry might kinda like some affection from someone called Fluffenstuff or Sport or Bess. Maybe one of these days when they don't have to run anymore. Maybe a little floppy one. He smiles to think of it.

Magnus seems serious about making sure Barry has someone to listen, and as important, someone to distract him with things like milkshakes and very good dog stories. Barry needs this. He had assumed he would've gotten this type of thing from Lup, he just trusted her so fully, and they were so close. He still wants it from her, too, but Magnus understands in a way she can't. Magnus has been where Barry was. If Barry has anything to say about it, Lup never will be.

"Maaaaagnuuuuuuuus!" Lup's voice calls out through the ship, lugging a now very full bag of goodies. "We still sparring? I've got some _delightful_ new tooooooys!" Taako laughs, heading off to get a start on dinner when...

"What. The Entire Fuck. Did you _Do?_ "

Lup skids around the corner, hearing the tone but not quite to words, and expecting a Fiasco™️. And a Fiasco™️ she doth find. 

The counter is a mess, a half-full blender sporting the remains of... "You guys made milkshakes and didn't _invite me?_ " She laughs, plucking a chocolate shaving from the open jar. "I'm both shocked and offended. To think I was gonna share the spoils of our pillaging..." She _tsks_ , met by Taako's look of Pure Betrayal. 

"THE KITCHEN! Lup?? Do you not see what they've _done to her_ ???" Lup shrugs, as her brother surveys the travesty before them. "I cannot beLIEVE! Did you put Thi-- _frozen Thin Mintz_ in my blender??"

Barry looks slightly shame-faced but mostly...not that! Lup _laughed,_ Taako's big mad, but Lup _laughed_ at something he participated in. Worth it, honestly, entirely. He laughs too. "I can help clean up, if you two are gonna spar. It's only fair," he says.

Magnus scoots back from the table, picking up his glass. "You sure?" he asks, fixing Barry with a look.

Barry smiles. "Yeah," he says. "Thanks for the milkshakes, bud. And...you know."

Lup should probably be a little more chastising, but it's hard to be upset when they're so happy. Barry's _smiling_. Gods, she hasn't seen that in... well, months. It has her smiling right back at him. 

"You sure, guys? We can stay and--"

"Lulu?" Taako steeples his fingers, gesturing to Magnus, then the counter. "Please keep That One™️ out of my kitchen so we can deal with this. Barold, you're on thin Fuckin' ice, but I trust you more to put shit back right." 

She raises her hands in surrender, "Alright, okay, I'll Magnus-sit." She slugs Mags on the arm, nodding to the door. "C'mon bud, let's get out of their hair."

“See you guys later, don’t kick his ass too bad,” Barry says. They can both hold their own, naturally. Lup has a bit of kitchen vengeance on her side, though.

But she laughed and spoke to him, so, you know, worth it.

"No promises!" She can't quit the grin splitting her face. He looks so much better without that defeated cast to his face. And he spoke! To her! And joked? It's baby steps, but it's _something_. And that's so much. 

They disappear, and Taako keeps a pointed ear until he can barely hear them chatting down the hall. Then? He leans against the counter, digging a straw from its drawer and sticking it straight in the blender. "I may have been exaggerating. Just a tad. Can't be _sharing_." He scoffs. 

Barry turns to the counter too as Lup and Magnus leave and starts to close up containers. “Sorry, bud, something sweet and messy just sounded really good,” he says apologetically.

"So, I assume this--" Taako says, gesturing to the mess "is about how The Claw's goin'?"

Barry looks around at the counters. A big mess, with arguable progress toward success. “Yeah, pretty much,” he agrees. “Like it’s coming along, but it’s still in a chaos phase a little bit. Still not sure how well it’ll _work_ yet though.”

He chuckles as Taako slurps the shake. “Tasty?” he asks.

Taako nods, thoughtfully slurping. "Bit overzealous on the sprinkles, in my humble onion, but I dare say I'm impressed." He pushes aside an empty carton of ice cream with his elbow and rests his head in his hand. 

"You look better. You should jot that down somewhere-- Cure for Death Blues, milkshake. I think you could market that."

Barry makes a face. “Kinda hope there’s not a lot of demand for it,” he says. “Mags and I talked a little, it’s—it’s a lot of adjustment is all, you know. Guess sometimes you gotta have a milkshake with extra sprinkles in the middle of it all.” He smiles wryly.

"That you do, my good dude. That you do." He stabs at a chunk of cookie stuck at the side of the blender with his straw. A particularly lumpy milkshake he can understand, but _guys_ . _Kids. Y'all._

Ehh, he'll get to it when upending the pitcher in his face won't result in a chest full of ice-cold chocolate. Patience. 

"So when're you gonna forgive my sister?"

Barry chokes in surprise, and coughs as he recovers. “I—it’s—I mean I have, like I don’t hold the launch against her, not really, Luci was crying and needed her right then, it just stung. I just wish I knew how to—like I didn’t mean to fuck up however I did, I’m not sure what it _was,_ but when I find out, I’ll do better.”

He sets a measuring cup in the sink. “I wish she’d just chew me out and get it over with. It’d be kinder.”

Taako's eyes narrow to slits. _What._

That's. 

"That's _it?_ " He drops the blender, staring a long hard moment at Barry, tongue in cheek, deep in consideration. This does not compute. 404, underlying cause of bullshit not found. 

"Barold. Bertrand. Bart...-tholomew." He sets his hands firmly on his hips, picturesque befuddlement. "Lup's not mad."

She's not? Mad???

Or like, offended or something, even, clearly Barry's at fault for _something,_ right?

Not being able to remember anything would make more sense if there actually was nothing to remember, but.

Seriously, though?

"Wait, what? Why won't she talk to me? She--we used to joke and hug and have fun in the lab, I thought--are you sure?" he asks.

"Sure as shit, my guy. If Lup was mad? She'd tell me. I'd know. This ain't mad Lup." He shakes his head and picks the milkshake back up "Not sure what it _is_ , but..." he mutters, before taking a sip. 

So what the Actual Fuck™️ is going on? He's not mad at her. She's not mad at him. What. The fuck. Is _wrong with these idiots_? 

"Barry, I'm going to need you to do a very big and difficult favour for me." Taako pauses, a long dramatic empty-straw-slurp for emphasis. He holds Barry's eyes the whole time. Unamused. 

"I need you to go fucking _talk to my sister._ "

Barry is...baffled. Confused, thrown for a loop. If Taako says Lup’s not mad, Barry believes him; this doesn’t seem like it does when she’s ready to yell at someone anyhow. She’s just… withdrawn. He sighs.

“I’m trying, but, I don’t know,” he says, more forlornly than he means to. “When I try, she just kinda stays off at a distance and barely answers. It’s like she's—“ he bites down on the words. _It’s like she doesn’t want me around. It’s like she can’t stand me. It’s like she thinks I’m a terrible monster. I’m scared she’s right._

"Guilty..?" 

Taako raises an eyebrow, finishing that sentence off in a way he _knows_ poor, dear, sweet Barold never would. But it's true. And the sooner both of these chucklefucks pull their heads from their asses, the quicker he can get his sister back to business. Is it selfish? Absolutely.

Well. Mostly. 

"Listen, thug. This isn't a conversation _we_ need to have. _I_ know you don't hate her. So can you please go clue in the other half of this bullshit circus, cause uhhhh showtime's over." As if on cue (it absolutely is), the faucet flicks on, and Taako brings the blender over to start washing up. At least _one_ of these messes he can help clean up.

Barry is stunned. “I, uh—I, yeah, I’ll talk to her,” he promises.

What could she possibly feel guilty for? She just ignored him, but what was the _cause?_ She hasn’t done anything wrong, she just isn’t interested the way he is, maybe. That’s okay, it happens, it’s nothing Barry hasn’t had happen to him over and over again before. He’s just too intense. They were cruising for what would feel like an amicable breakup under the best circumstances, he gets it.

He helps clean up the path of disaster the milkshakes have left. He needs to reassure her, is the thing, it sounds like. Here he’s been up his own ass about dying and trauma and bullshit and she probably has it worse. Barry’s a tough boy, he’ll be fine, probably, he’s gotta make sure Lup’s fine, too.

—

Lup falls to the mat, chest heaving. Gods, she's off her game. _Wonder why that might be._

"Dammit. Am I coming in too high again? That felt better." She huffs and picks herself up, waving away Magnus's offered hand. "I got it, I got it. One more, I'm gonna get it." And she'll keep telling herself that until she does. 

She can think about what Taako said later. About how Barry smiled, _actually smiled_. At her. 

Lup shakes her head, pulls her fists up. _Later._

“You got it,” Magnus agrees. “Can’t believe you’re just gonna let a big ol’ kitchen mess like that go, thought you and Taako were gonna have my head and Barry’s both,” he jokes.

She ducks under his swing, stepping into it and ending up beside him, foot connecting with his ankle to send him falling forward. _Nailed it._

"If ya thought we'd be mad, then why'd ya do it?" she teases, offering him a hand up. "I mean, I won't blame you for a milkshake, given you're willing to clean up. Taako though? That's a bold choice y'all made, leaving the cleaning for last."

Magnus scrambles back up. “Barry needed it,” he shrugs simply. “Like, bad, have you seen the guy? He’s been looking rough.” He lifts his fists, wary, watching for her next move.

Her stance falters, arms dropping just an inch. "Yeah, I mean. I can't exactly blame him. I guess you'd know that better than me, huh."

Magnus pauses. “Have you been able to talk to him at all? It helps to have someone to listen. And hug, hugging helps, for sure.”

She sighs. "I mean, not really? Kinda seems like I'm the last person he'd want to talk to, given how... y'know." Lup takes the opportunity to feign a right hook, not putting her full weight into it. Let Mags know she's still down to clown. Giving her mind something to focus on alongside the guilt. It doesn't make it any less, but a girl can pretend.

“Wait, given what? He said you didn’t fight, but he thinks you don’t wanna talk to him. You guys were always so close, like all last cycle you were joined at the hip, what happened?” Magnus asks. He dodges, then counters with a left jab.

"Wait, whataya--" He catches her in the side, " _fuck_ ." She stutters back, bouncing on her toes in wait of an opening. "Whataya mean _given what_ ? Mags, he died protecting me. Like. That shot was _not_ meant for him. That's plenty of reason to not want me all up in his business." She shakes her head. _Obviously_.

Magnus watches her carefully, shifting to avoid letting her get past his guard. “That’s what’s wrong?” he shakes his head. “You know I protect people a lot? It’s my job, and like... I can’t speak for Barry, but I can’t imagine being pissed that I did good at protecting someone. You know? Like that’s more a success than something sucky.” 

"Yeah, but that's your job. That's not his." Her eyes narrow, watching his feet. Not like they hadn't all saved each other's hides a time or two. Plus, he's an adult; they all are. He had to have known what he was doing.

But this is different, right? This is _death_ . It wasn't a broken leg or a busted lip, this was three months in the Hunger. It's death and _then_ some. 

“Protecting folks doesn’t have to be a _job,_ you can just do it,” he points out. “Did he yell at you about it or something?”

"Yell at me? Dude, it's _Barry_. I don't think he's actually yelled at anyone. Doesn't have to, y'know? He gets those puppy eyes on ya..." She shakes her head, and tries to feign a right hook, taking a sweep at his leg on the strike.

Magnus dances out of the way, trying to slip a quick punch in at the same time. He turns his body, trying to make it harder for her to land a punch. “Like yeah, I know he’s patient, but, oof. I heard _stories_ back at the institute. Apparently it just takes a whole fucking lot for him to get there. More than dying, apparently. Have you tried to ask him what’s up?”

Lup sidesteps a strike, "Well yeah, but..." She doesn't actually have a good _but_ for that. 

"I dunno, sort of? I don't want to make him dwell on it. I've already put him through enough."

Magnus wrinkles his nose, then swings around the other direction, trying to catch her off guard. "Take it from me? If it's hitting him like it hit me at all, you can't make him remember all of a sudden; he never forgets. He's gotta do something with that, it can't just stay there. If I hadn't had you all to listen and hug it out and distract me sometimes, I don't know. I don't know," he repeats. He shakes his head.

"It took a little nudging, but as soon as he figured it was safe to talk to me about it, he did, and then we made milkshakes and well, you saw. You know?"

"Yeah, okay... Yeah." She'd figured as much. Living with something like that for so long, she can't imagine it's easy to forget. Of course she didn't want to add to that, but really she knew she wouldn't be. She'd known that all along, hadn't she?

It's the guilt, then. She'd known it all along, she must have, piling on all sorts of reasonings had just covered it. Lup hated herself for killing Barry, and somewhere along the line she'd convinced herself that he must hate her too. 

She's thrown off her game just long enough for Magnus to catch her leg and send her flat on her ass. She can't even be mad. "I... I should talk to him. I'll talk to him." She frowns, picks herself up. It'll suck, but she's got to apologise. 

"What helped you? I've tried distracting him, I don't think it helped much..." Lup doesn't set her arms up, clearly distracted from the match, eyes off in the middle-distance. "I just wanna do something that actually... I dunno, _does_ something."

Magnus thinks a moment. "It helps to talk through it. Taako's been helping a lot, so have Merle and Dav. Sometimes I don't think it makes a lot of sense, but I talk to them about it, and sometimes they'll kinda check in and bully me a little if I'm stuck. Taako lets me hug him, and he's warm and that helps. It was...really cold there. If I don't remember that I'm back here and safe, like with a nightmare or something, sometimes Taako will like, make sure there's light and sound and stuff, too? One thing at a time, you know? He's good about that, or he'll feed me something good, like there isn't _anything_ there, kind of, but there's a lot of stuff here, and kinda going one by one helps."

He shuffles a little. "I think the biggest thing is making sure I know it's okay to talk about it. I thought maybe you guys didn't wanna know what it was like at first, still do sometimes. I think that's part of what's broken, though, and so maybe it’s not true."

Lup nods. Knowing what she knows now about him and Taako, it's a little easier to see her brother being so outwardly caring. Not to say he doesn't care, but when you keep up a Brand™️ for so long... Good to know she's not the only one he lets in. 

"That makes sense. And hey, Mags? You can talk to me any time. I know that goes for all of us, but. We're all here for ya." She holds out her arms, well aware that they're both sweaty and gross, and not caring even a bit. "It means a lot that you're willing to talk about it with us. I know I'm not always the best at being there, but it's not 'cause I don't wanna be. S'just. Hard to know what to do, y'know?"

Magnus rushes into the hug without hesitating. Hell yes, free hugs! "I know, it's not like it's anything we could've ever expected. We just gotta try 'til we figure out what works, yeah?" he says, giving her a tight, sweaty squeeze.

Okay. Maybe she does care about being gross. But showers exist for a reason. Lup laughs, exaggerating the squeeze with a strained wheeze. 

"Thanks Mags. Not that I don't love the bear hugs but. I deffo hear the shower calling." She gives him a pat on the back. They'll figure it out. They always do. So they can just keep on figuring it out, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SA: These IDIOTS! Finally, their very good friends can (in some cases literally) knock some sense into them.
> 
> ST: Listen, honestly? Subtlety was NOT working!


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, rehearsal's over.
> 
> Showtime!

With the kitchen restored to order, Barry accepts Taako’s shooing him out, and wanders off to kill some time until Lup’s done sparring.

He heads out of the ship. Maybe he’ll just stretch his legs a little before dinner. He doesn’t get far, though, before running across one of the robots that live here, sitting in the grass and nursing an arm that doesn’t seem quite right. “Hey, you okay?” Barry asks.

The little robot looks up. “This doesn’t work,” he says frustratedly.

Barry looks. He’s no robot surgeon, but he is reasonably smart and filled with hubris. The components seem mostly color-coded, and after all the times he’s helped fix the ship...

“You wanna come back with me and I’ll help? I’ll need to grab a couple tools but I should be able to fix this,” he offers.

The little robot nods and trails after him, sitting back down in the grass near the gangplank. “Okay, right here it is,” Barry chuckles. He heads in to grab what he’ll need. It’s good to be able to do  _ something, _ gods, if he keeps this up he might actually be a person again instead whatever the fuck he’s been lately.

\--

She takes some convincing, but soon enough Lup agrees that no more sparring is likely to get done today, and she and Magnus head for the showers. Which offers Lup ample time to think. And overthink. And very nearly talk herself out of the talk she needs to have with Barry. 

_ It'll make him think about it more-- _ Everything will, Magnus said as much.

_ Okay but what if he doesn't want to see me-- _ We live on this damned ship together, not seeing each other isn't an option.

_ I'm just going to say something stupid and make it worse-- _ Yeah, probably. So stop being a coward and just  _ do it already _ . 

She drags the towel over her face with a huff. Time to put some damn clothes on before she chickens out. Again. 

Lup heads to the kitchen, not really surprised to find it vacant. 'Least they got it cleaned up. Maybe he's in his room? But that's a bust, too. Lup huffs and heads out to the deck to get some air. Gods, it'd be so much easier to  _ do _ this if she could just--

Something below shifts near the bottom of the gangplank, reflecting light up at her. Ding dang golden hour, she can't get a good look at what it is. One of the robots, maybe? She pushes off of the guardrail. She'll just take a few minutes to have a look, make sure nothing's busted or needing help. Maybe Barry'll show up in the meantime. 

The door to the gangplank lies open when Lup gets there.  _ Weird _ . Someone must have already gone to check it out? She peeks around, and her heart nearly melts at what she sees. Barry, sat in the grass with a little robot no taller than his hip. And he looks... Happy. Lup smiles, leaning against the hull. Her conversation can wait.

\--

Barry settles back onto the grass next to the little robot. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here, little guy,” he says. He reaches for the arm. “Can I borrow this? I’m just gonna getcha-getcha, see?” he says, sticking his own finger into the pliers and giving them a painless little squeeze. 

The robot giggles. “Get me!” he demands, letting Barry take his arm.

Barry carefully looks it over. A couple of things to tighten up. Looks like part of the hand just isn’t connected, that should be easy enough to fix. 

“Okay, hold still for me and I’ll—ow! Hey! Don’t do that, hold still and let me help, okay?” Barry says, pulling away from the shock. Little brat zapped him, rude.

The robot giggles and holds his arm out again. Barry takes it with a small chuckle and a shake of his head.

Lup doesn't need to hear the kid's giggle to put together the goof. She covers her own laugh, ducking back into the doorway. 

Slowly, Lup peeks back around, biting back a sappy smile. Barry doesn't look mad, not really. He scolds the kid-- clearly a kid from this distance-- and takes their arm. Is he... yeah, it looks like he's repairing something. Not something she's seen him do before, but she doesn't doubt his capabilities. And he looks happy, so that's a win. 

Why can't he be handsome and sweet and self-sacrificing and  _ good with kids _ in some other life? Why does it have to be here and now, right in front of her, but still so far out of reach? Gods know he deserves... something. Something like last cycle, before everything went to shit. Back when they were happy and together and could pretend it was real. No, Barry deserves real. What Lup wouldn't give to be the one to show him that.

Barry carefully goes to connect one wire, but the little robot pulls away. "Wait! I need my friend to be brave!" he says.

Barry looks around. "Buddy, I don't--who do you need?" he asks, but the robot has already dropped his bag to the ground and started digging inside with his good arm. 

He pulls out a stuffed bear and squeezes it tight. "Okay, get me!" he says, holding his arm back out. 

Barry obligingly takes the arm, flinching back as the little guy zaps him again. "Ow, c'mon, I'm trying to help you, don't hurt me," Barry scolds lightly. The robot giggles again. "Hold still, sooner I'm done, sooner you can play," Barry coaxes.

Lup could just die, right then and there. The kid shocks Barry again, but how could you possibly be mad when they're squeezing a plush? Funny, the universally constant comfort of stuffed animals. She knows she's not the only one on the ship that keeps something like that around, but now she wonders if Barry's among them.

Barry's lips are nearly readable from there, years of familiarity making words of... most of what he says. A bit stern, of course, but mostly just working with the kid, meeting them where they're at. Even when he's already hurting, not an ounce of that shows through. Not when somebody needs him.

He'd be a good dad, huh? Well, eventually, maybe, with someone, not her, of course. 

Gods, she's got it bad.

Barry gets almost everything reconnected, a raised eyebrow answering a sneaky grin once or twice and staving off more shocks. As he goes for the last piece, the little robot shocks him one last time, stronger than the others.

"Ow! Sh--oot," Barry catches himself. This is a kid, he reminds himself, a tiny bastard like he was once. "I am almost done, hold--there, all better." He shakes out his hand. Kid really got him that time, damn.

"Ohhh, it's okay, you can hug my bear, and then that will feel you a little better!" the little guy chirps.

Barry laughs. "Thanks, buddy," he says. He takes the bear and gives it a squeeze, then falls back flat in the grass as the little robot tackles him with a hug. "Oof! Whoa, okay, warn me first, alright?" he says with a laugh.

Lup claps a hand over the sappiest smile she'd seen in months. The two laugh, all bright smiles and grass, and  _ that's _ what Barry deserves. Not to be locked into some sticky maybe-someday that they both know will never really happen. Not in the way they really want. 

So they'll talk, she resolves. She'll apologise, and maybe,  _ maybe _ , if he still wants to have that months-overdue conversation, if he still wants any of that with her, they'll talk about that too. Cause if that's what he wants, Lup will be happy to give. 

Because she loves him. Well and truly, even after all this bullshit dancing around each other. Even after the months he left her alone. It hurts, and she won't say it doesn't matter, because it  _ does _ . But she loves him. She still loves him.

Barry sits up and hands the little guy his bear back. "Alright, you better go play and I'd better go get ready for dinner. Be careful, okay? And you?" he says, addressing the bear. "You keep an eye on this one for me."

The robot giggles and picks up his bag. He dashes off, both arms swinging as they should.

Barry chuckles and gathers up the tools. He'll just bring them back inside, surely Lup will be done sparring soon. He heads up the gangplank, preoccupied with the toolkit.

Lup does her best to look like she wasn't just spying on this cutest of robot surgeries. She can't hide her blush, or the nervous swish of her tail, but she can hopefully keep her ears level enough to look moderately normal. Just. Talk to him. Like friends. You  _ are _ friends. You just. Messed up. 

She waves from the doorway, "Hey..." Can't help the tense tone, but her smile is hopeful and real. "You uhmm, you got a minute?"

Barry looks up from the gangplank to the doorway. Oh, she's done already? Showered too, he can smell--he'd know her scent anywhere, now. That hurts, some days, but not today, when she's talking to him and laughed when he made a big mess. That's enough, isn't it? That can be enough for him, if it has to be.

"Yeah, I just gotta put these up, is all, what, uh, what's up?" he asks.

She smiles, following him into the ship.  _ Yes? _ Yes. Okay. He'll talk to her, not just in front of others when making them feel awkward is at risk, but just the two of them, walking down the hall. Talking.

"Cool, cool, you headed to the lab? What, uhmm, what were you gettin' up to with the tools out there?" If he's heading back to the lab, maybe they could get a second alone. Not that anyone would pry, really, but privacy is a luxury they're all sort of getting used to again.

"Yeah, one of the robots had some stuff all wonky in his arm, a little kid one. Just needed it all connected back up, guess it came loose when he was playing," Barry explains. "Cute little fella, too. Sparring go good? You kick Mags's ass?"

"Awwh, you're a regular robot doctor." She grins, holding open the lab door for him. "Yeah, it was... real productive. He gave me a run for my money today, but. I'll get him next time." 

She finds a space of counter near where the tools belong, and hops up to sit. Not exactly primo lab practice, but. They can clean the counters, and a bit of dropped formalities are well overdue. 

"So... I'm sorry?" He's got his back to her, putting things away, and gods that's for the best, because if he looked at her she might just lose her resolve. "I've been shitty. And... I don't wanna be? I--" Fuck, how does she even start? "I want to help. I just don't know how."

Barry stops with his hand still on the toolkit. She's sorry? She...she doesn't need to be, but he wanted her to...not to be sorry, exactly, just to...not go back to how it was, exactly, but...he thought he was supposed to be sorry? But she is...but does it matter who did what as long as they work it out now?

It's perfect, he decides.

He turns around. "I--it's okay, I know I've probably been a complete pill, all fucked up like this. I--Mags and Taako said when I...when I died, that it was really hard on you. I wish...I wish it hadn't had to be that way, I just didn't want you to die. I don't know what I ne--no, I do, I miss you, I need a hug," he tries.

"No, no--" Okay, yeah, he has been a bit... curt, but so had she. And she deserved it. She stops herself, both the train of thought and her words. Let him talk. That's the point. 

Lup bites hard at her lip. Of course it was hard on her, of course it didn't have to be that way. He wasn't  _ supposed _ to die. She was. 

"I missed you, too." She holds out her hands, "And I can do hugs. I can always do hugs." Gods, she's not going to cry, not when  _ he's _ the one hurting. She can, however, give him just a little bit of shit. Like friends do. 

"You didn't have to go dying, though. You ever stop to think, maybe it  _ didn't _ have to be that way?"

Barry laughs and goes straight into her arms. "Guess he coulda missed, I just couldn't...I couldn't  _ not _ try, and just let it happen." He hugs her tight, then lets up a little. "All I could think was how I couldn't keep going if--oh  _ shit, _ " he says, suddenly realizing. "You had to, though. You had to keep going on afterwards, all that time, I'm so sorry." Maybe the affection wasn't all for real, but she cared about him, they were friends. Of course it had hurt her, she didn't have to love him romantically for that to happen. He doesn't let her go.

"Barry, I--" Lup leans back. "Whataya mean it coulda... Barry, that shot wasn't  _ meant _ for you. Yeah--I-- You died, and it was awful and bullshit and gods I'm  _ so sorry _ but," She wipes at her eyes,  _ fuck, perfect _ . Take a breath. Calm down. 

"You died. And that  _ hurt _ ? But it should've been  _ me _ . And that hurt, just, so much worse? Cause then it was  _ my _ fault?" Nope, she can't do it. Can't look at him, with her whole ass right there. She wraps her arms back over his shoulders, pulling him in tight so he can't see the tears in her eyes. 

"Cause then  _ I _ killed you, Barry. And I can deal with myself getting killed, for my own stupid actions, but I can't..." She knows she's making it about her now, and that's not what she should be doing, but she can't keep letting Barry think that he's some disposable fuckin' meat shield. He's a whole, real-ass person, and she  _ loves him _ , but even more than that she  _ missed him _ . "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Bear..."

Oh, no, no, no, that’s what the problem is? He just holds her a minute, tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill. He rubs his hand up and down her back, she’s upset, she feels guilty, he loves her, he loves her, he loves her, and maybe that love will dull some of the sting.

She might be pissed in a minute, when he says what he’s about to. He's gonna anyway. Better that she’s safely pissed off and healthy in his arms than dead or just back from death with her...mind? Soul? Both? Fucked up.

He pulls back a little so she can see, wanting to make sure she catches every word. “Lup, listen...it wasn’t your fault. I promise, it wasn’t. I know I didn’t have more than a second to think, but I  _ chose _ to push you out of the way. It was a bullshit situation but...it was my choice, because I wanted you to hurt the least possible. I’m not all the way okay, but I’m never ever gonna blame you for that.” He pulls her close again, gods he wants to kiss every tear away, that would maybe fly last year but he doesn’t think it would now. They’re not back how it was, they can’t be, there’s still a wound and it needs to heal, even though this is helping.

“It’s okay,” he says, gently, as though saying it will make it so.

She sees his words but they don't make  _ sense _ . She  _ knows _ he pushed her, but  _ why? _ To not hurt her? That doesn't make sense. 

Unless he didn't think his death would hurt her. Because maybe her death just. Wouldn't hurt him like that. Of course it wouldn't. She  _ loves _ him. And he just doesn't feel the same. 

"Okay." She lets him pull her back to him, thankful at least that he can't see that realisation on her face. "You still didn't have to go dyin'. We all missed you a lot." Lup presses her face into Barry's shoulder. This isn't about her. Right. 

"I'm always here for hugs, but... is there anything else I can do? Mags said maybe talking about it? I, uhh, I dunno if that's the same for you but... Whatever I can do, I'll do. Promise."

_ Love me back and stay with me forever _ comes to mind, but it’s pretty clear to Barry that that’s an overreach. She doesn’t, apparently, not by the way her posture changed just there. Maybe she loves him as a friend, a best friend, even, but not like he loves her. He can’t expect it, it’s her love to give.

But she’s willing to listen, and talk, and hug. That can be enough, right? He was willing to take scolding earlier, this is way better.

“I’ll try not to die anymore. I, uh, didn’t like it much? I can’t promise, though,” he says.

And now for the tricky part:  _ words _ . “I’d like to talk to you about it, but—I’m scared you’ll feel bad and then—I don’t think I can handle another month like this one,” he says. It feels like begging. He will for real if she wants.

"Can't imagine it's very fun, yeah." She almost laughs, more of a huff of breath against his shoulder. It wasn't all that fun to be left behind, either. 

But that doesn't matter right now. Barry's here, and  _ talking _ to her, and  _ that's _ what matters. If he needs someone to listen, then Lup will do her damn best. Especially if it means he keeps talking to her.

She sits back, letting her hands fall to his arms. "You can talk to me. If you want. I... I can't promise I won't feel bad? But I'm always gonna be there for you. Okay?" Lup forces a smile-- well, not entirely forced. She does mean it, every bit. And then some. "You just gotta tell me what you need. I know that's not always easy but. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a mind-reader," she chuckles.

“I can try. I haven’t been real good at that lately, it’s kinda not fair to anyone. Gods I missed you,” he says. 

She’s here, she says she’ll always be here. He’ll take it. Even if they never get to hold each other through the night again, or kiss each other breathless, or they never get to have that talk. It’s fine, he can be happy like this.

"I missed you too, nerd." This is okay. This is good, even. It's not everything that she wants, but it's some of it, and that's not nothing. She'll take it. 

“You know you can talk to me, too? Like about what happened after, or really anything, but. We can maybe help each other. It’s different, but we can try?” he says. He’s stalling, a little, trying to get back to the way things feel more comfortable. He’s trying, but.

Lup nods, it is different. She was sad, yeah, angry, absolutely. But he died. And that's like. Just arguably worse. "I know. And I will. Just... I think you maybe deserve to talk a little bit more right now?" If things were different, if it was last cycle again, she could just press her sad smile to his hair, a gentle kiss that might be just for show, if anyone asked. Not that anyone would, but a solid excuse always makes a girl feel a little bolder. 

But things are different now. So Lup just gives his arm a pat, and shoves that thread of want back down. "So talk to me, Bear. I'm here to listen."

He smiles at that, then swallows. She’s doing the thing. It’s finally safe.

“I guess...the worst part is that it didn’t feel bad. Like...when I was in there-- okay like you can charm someone? And get them to do stuff, or a sleazy person can confuse you and swindle you. But this made me feel like it was my idea—maybe it was? Like it let me into the really bad shit I don’t wanna really do, but it’s just  _ in _ there. I—fucked up the plane in there, and came after the ship. It was dark and I didn’t even care.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s some bullshit.”

Lup nods, and listens, and rubs little circles with her thumb on his arm. Of course she doesn't blame him, none of them do, for what he must have done at the end. It wasn't like he'd had a choice, even if it might have seemed like it at the time. 

"It wasn't, though. You'd-- Barry, you'd never hurt us on purpose, right? I don't, like, I'm not gonna pretend to know what that felt like, but... I mean, I've thought some pretty awful things. Not things I'd ever actually do, I wouldn't even want to. Maybe it's like that? Picking up those intrusive thoughts. Doesn't mean you  _ wanted _ to." She pulls him in tight, wishing she could be half the comfort and warmth for him that he is to her. Now that'd be a miracle. "It  _ is _ bullshit. And you didn't deserve any of it."

"I know that, like in my brain? I have that idea. Magnus said so too, and Dav. But I was  _ helping, _ " Barry tries to explain. That was it, wasn't it? He was using his gift, and it was twisted to ill intent.

"I was helping, I wanted to help, and do the best thing I know how to do, but all I did was hurt. And I thought that that was what was  _ right, _ " he says. "That shit had me so twisted up, and I wanted it. I wanted--you know how it's totally chill to want some things, like food and shelter and happiness, but if you start wanting other stuff, like other people's shit or control over them without caring who gets hurt, it's bad news. It was like that, times a billion." He shuddered.

Gods, it sounds so  _ awful _ . A kind of terrible Lup can't properly imagine, and doesn't want to. But she's sort of got to try, right? Put herself in Barry's shoes as best as she can, figure out what might help him. 

He looks at everything so pragmatically. Takes everything as it comes, factually, and fits it together as it is. He didn't want to, but then he  _ did _ want to, so it must have made him want it. But maybe that's not it. 

"Do you still want those things now?" she asks. "When you were in it, that place, it twisted your perception, right? Like. Like it put a filter on. But that doesn't change  _ you _ , Barry."

Barry thinks. "No, I don't--that's what the nightmares are, my body doing the things and me trying to stop it. I don't even seem to want those things in my sleep. They just...happened, and I can't seem to get rid of them. They feel heavy; they make me tired," he says. "I sometimes wish I didn't remember."

His eyes mist up again. Gods, if he couldn't remember it? It would still have happened, but maybe it wouldn't hurt? Maybe he wouldn't startle awake nights and drag through his days? He pulls his glasses off and presses his fingertips to his eyelids a second.

"Hey, hey..." She can't help it, reaching up to brush her thumb under his eye. "I know, I know, but see? It's not  _ you. _ You know it was bad,  _ you _ don't want those things. I don't..." Lup takes a breath. She doesn't even know that any of this is helping, hopefully he'd at least tell her if she was making it worse... 

"Maybe I've got it wrong. But I think that...  _ thing _ ... Maybe it's like you were saying. Like a Charm. Something over top, some sort of filter that changes how you feel in the moment. But it didn't change  _ you _ , Barry. Not  _ really _ . You feel bad, about what you did? And that's... like that's shitty, but it also means that you're  _ better _ than that. It was wrong and you  _ know _ that." Her hand rests at his cheek, and gods it's all she can do to not pull him to her. It's selfish, but gods, she's missed him. 

"I think...yeah, I think that's true. Even though sometimes--" he pauses. "Sometimes I still want what I can't have. So bad it hurts. Maybe it'll stop hurting someday."

Maybe someday he could just want what was okay to want. Just enough. Not someone like Lup, way beyond him. He had thought what he wanted with her was modest: a safe place to live, happiness, family, comfort. But that was selling her short, she deserved better than modesty. He could release her to better, somehow, free her from his heart and encourage her toward real happiness, and find his sort-of-almost-normal somewhere. That's what a good person would do.

So, then. No more expectations. No more possessiveness and angst. Just friendship and genuinely wanting what's best for her. No matter what.

She smiles, shakes her head. "Barry, I don't think you've ever asked anyone for more than what you need. Hell, most times I don't think you even ask for  _ that _ ." A pointed eyebrow calls him out, but with a smile that says she doesn't blame him for that. He's a simple kind of guy, one who doesn't like getting in the way. One of these days, maybe she'll convince him to stand his ground a little.

"You're a good person, Bear. That... that thing didn't change that."

"I can sure try to be. I can try," he says, breath catching a little. "I could maybe use another hug."

Lup pulls him greedy into her arms, tight and a little possessive, happy to be a comforting weight against him. "You're already there, Bear. And I've got as many hugs as you need. Just say the word."

Barry chuckles, a breathless little thing startled out in place of a sob. "Yeah," he says. He clings to her; she's holding him close like he matters. Maybe he does. He's asked for a lot today, it feels like, but he's gotten it, too, and offers of more, and little admonishments for not asking more and sooner. He's felt more alive today than he has since the gala.

Maybe that's the best thing to do? Maybe it will make the others happiest to let them help him. Maybe he can help them better this way; Magnus helped him and then he helped the little robot, he probably couldn't've without talking with Mags first.

"Promise? You know I'll hug just always, like someone looks at me funny and I'll hug then and there," he says, smiling--gods,  _ smiling! _

If she closes her eyes, she can pretend they're back to the way things were. Maybe she's sitting up on the kitchen counter in that shared little space, arms wrapped around him on a chill morning, waiting for water to boil. Like maybe she could pull back and kiss his hair, before the speakers and the gala and the mess. It's not what he needs now, but maybe. Maybe someday. Probably not. 

But Lup's always been one for holding onto stubborn hope, huh?

She gives him a squeeze before pulling back, her own smile clear on her face. She's already got a hand held up between them, pinky at the ready. 

"Promise. I will be willing to give hugs, no matter what. As long as you are willing to ask for them. Deal?"

He links his pinky with hers, grinning like a fool, and stamps their thumbs. "Deal. I'll do it, promise."

Maybe it won't be like before, but--maybe this is what he needs? A promise she'll be there and won't freeze him out again, sealed by something he can see and feel and available to reaffirm when he's anxious. Maybe--he didn't  _ not _ trust her now, but this would help settle that trust more firmly in place.

He won't press his luck today. But she had wanted to talk about more once. Maybe someday she would again, when things were less recently fucked. Maybe when they'd both had some time to heal from this. Maybe.

"You better. A pinky-swear's no joke, Barold." She laughs, and it's genuine. 

Maybe it's not everything she wants. But Lup's never been one to settle for good enough, so maybe that one's on her. They're still friends, even with a few bumps in the road. They'd hurt, and they'd hurt each other, but that wasn't the  _ end. _ They'll figure it out, and they'll be there for each other. He promised. 

She absolutely believes him. 

"I'm uhh, I'm not gonna make you like. Keep talking about it? All at once? Mags said like... I mean I know bringing it up isn't like. Like it's still gonna be there? I just. Feel bad? Bringing it back up?" Their hands fall to her lap, and she's not really holding on so much as not letting go. He's warm and familiar, and this... it's almost something sweet. How they were. "If you want me to like. Ask about it? If that's easier than... I dunno. What do you... What should I do?"

Barry laughs too. This is better, not how it was exactly, there's more history and some of it sucks, but something good, without such a chasm between them.

He mulls over her question. "Sometimes, hmmm." He tries again. "On the worst days, I... _ can't? _ Say anything about it? Like people talk about a lump in their throat, but that's for real what it feels like, and I don't know how to ask then. I can say other stuff, but if go to ask someone to listen I choke and the words just slide off and around and wind up in space, and then so do I, sort of."

She nods, mouth screwed to the side in thought. Maybe... Hmm. 

"What about. What about like a signal? Like a-- like a safe word, but like. Exactly Not That." She snorts, shakes her head. "Okay, no, but. Like if you can't talk about it but like, you need something? Do you think..." She slips her fingers from his, " _ Think you could try sign? _ I dunno if it's like... if that'd be any different? But there's definitely been times, y'know... some things ya just can't really  _ say _ out loud. Helps to have another way." She shrugs, hands back to her lap. Not reaching for his but. Not avoiding. "Worth a shot, maybe?"

Okay, okay, maybe? That might work, it's at least worth a shot. 

"I could try? Maybe it'll be different enough, I could--gods, I could  _ trick the sadness, _ just fucking  _ sneak around it, _ " he says with a laugh. "And then, then you'd know and like...we could see if some of the regular things work then, you're always good at calming me down, or if it's something new. But maybe I just need that start."

Lup laughs with him, and gods, she'll never get tired of that. Barry's got a laugh that just rumbles right though her, like it's almost tangible. "Hell yeah, won't know what hit it. And if you can't, like if that doesn't work? Just like. Tap me or somethin', and I'll figure it out. And I'll try to like, look out for it? I can't promise I'll always know what to do, but if you can point me in the right direction, I can try." 

It's messy, and it's imperfect, but it's progress. It's not waking up beside him or bedding down close, but it's talking and hugging and it's  _ something _ . Does Lup want to push it? With every fibre of her being. But she won't, she shouldn't. Not yet. "Is, uhmm... is anything different? Like, obviously hugging is still okay, but. Y'know like, Mags was a little jumpy there for a while, some things that made it worse? 'S there anything I like. Shouldn't do?"

"Um, you know about the dark, that's still--yeah, and like--breaking glass? I--there was a lot, toward the end, I smashed--lots of stuff. And getting too hungry, that's the tricky one--that's the one I need help with. I lose my appetite, and then get hungry, then feel like shit from that, then get sad, and then the whole thing." Barry actually feels kinda good about nailing that down, that's something practical, something that feels actionable. He smiles a little. He's doing it.  _ They're _ doing it. It's gonna be okay, not today or tomorrow maybe, but soon and more and more along the way.

"Okay. That makes sense. I don't... hmm. I don't know how much I can help the... the breaking things bit. But I can deffo make sure you eat, if that'd be alright? Speaking of..." Lup peeks around him at the clock. "Yeah, probably dinner time pretty soon. I should get to helpin' Ko with that." 

She hops off the counter, nodding for him to follow. "You wanna come help? Y'don't have to, but. If you still want company, 'r whatever. Or uhh, y'know, after dinner, if you want to talk or something? I dunno if you've gotten through those movies Mags brought back for ya, there's some good ones in there..." She stops herself from rambling, but can't quite get the smile off her face. "Whatever you want. S'just. Good to have you back."

That sounds close to right. He can help with dinner, he used to sometimes, last year in their own kitchen and before that on the ship. He wasn’t particularly great at it, but he could take directions. That was probably ideal, for the moment, to let someone lead him through some familiar stuff. And a movie after, that sounds perfect, and even if she might not be down to full on tangle up in a bed, even on the couch...

That’ll still feel more like home. Barry wants that. And he can’t bring himself to try to stop wanting it. So he doesn’t.

“I—yeah, I can help, and there’s still a whole slew of movies, we could watch one...yeah.” He returns her smile. That’s stuff that a person would do, maybe he is one again, for the time being. “I’m glad I’m back too, it’s a lot better. Thanks,” he says.

There's not so much a spring in her step as there is a lack of a sulk, but it feels worlds better to Lup. It must look it too, by the look Taako gives them when they walk into the kitchen together. 

"What's the plan, Ko? I maaaaay have promised Mags stir-fry-- We still got stuff for that?" She slides into sync next to him, whipping her apron off it's hook with a hip-bump to her brother. Taako's face plays a whole range of emotions before settling on something akin to exasperated relief. 

"Course. You here to spectate, Barold, 'r you gonna start washin' some cabbage?" 

Lup laughs. It's not everything she wanted, not yet. But it's so much better than nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Finally these fools are talking! They've still got some stuff to hash out though, it seems...  
> SA: Okay but it's a start. And a damn good one, comparatively. Baby steps.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ever just hear some really good advice?  
> Just some absolute nuggets of wisdom?  
> You ever even give 'em?
> 
> You ever just try to apply those things to your life?

Dinner tasted better than it had in awhile. Maybe love really was a secret ingredient like his mom used to BS the neighbors, Barry reflected as he and Lup plop down onto the couch to figure out a movie. A rustling just outside the door and a quick whispered, “leave ‘em, they seem cool now, go go go,” has Barry fairly sure that the others have caught onto the release of the tension between him and Lup.

He sifts through titles: action, comedy, romance, horror—maybe not horror just yet, thanks-- sci-fi... Magnus was thorough.

Lup settles in, pulling her feet up onto the couch and plucking a blanket from a  _ precarious _ stack. Like 90% of them came from hers or Taako's rooms anyway, so she should have dibs over the good ones, right? Not like she's stingy when it comes to sharin'. 

Barry holds up his pick. “Okay, I remember posters for this one. Mags is gonna make damn sure I watch it soon if not now, huh?” he says with amusement. Two strangers who both think the same stray dog is theirs? That’s Magnus bait right there, excellent.

Lup looks over the cover, "Oooooh, yeah, he's been  _ raving _ about this one. I uhh, I haven't gotten around to watching it yet. He totally spoiled the ending though." She snorts, plucking it from its case. "I'm down if you are?"

“Oh nooooo, spoilers? Magnus,” Barry says with a mock disapproving shake of his head. “I’m down, let’s do it.” 

He settles back into the couch as she sets up the movie. This’ll be nice, he won’t have any sort of trouble following the adventures of—he flips the case to check—Kate and Will and Spot/Champ, depending on who you ask. It’s cute. Lup’s here, not just physically anymore, she’s present, not distant.

He grins. “You gonna sprawl out seven ways? I don’t mind, just curious.”

Lup all but traipses back to the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. "Well, if you in _ sist _ ..." She hops into the open space, legs falling over his lap. The movie starts up with a little musical beat, showing who she can only assume is Kate coming home to find a stray pup on her stoop. Lup laughs, cozying up with a pillow. 

"S'this cool? Too much?" She hopes not. Ideally, it wouldn't be a question; she'd snuggle up to him before a couch cushion any day. But things don't fix themselves over night, and even if they did... what's her excuse for getting close now? Not like they have anything to prove.

“Yeah, it’s real good,” Barry says with a little laugh. “It’s—I like it. You know me, I’ll snuggle every day and twice on Sunday.” He can’t help it, his smile is just like the ones from last year, soft and content and adoring. They always were honest, those smiles.

He turns his attention to the screen, watching as Kate drives off to work after setting out some food and the dog tramps across to the other building in the apartment complex to scam Will out of scritches. What a smart dog, honestly.

"It's what Istus would want..." Lup nods sagely, but her neutral face quickly dissolves into laughter. Maybe next time she'll try a little closer. Baby steps. 

She honest to gods really gets where this dog is coming from, on so many levels. As a street rat making sure to get fed, aaaaand someone seeking out just a bit of attention or affection. They feel pretty similar, some days. And when you're a cute little mutt? One's bound to mean the other. "Smart dog. Bet he ain't even a  _ stray _ ." She snorts.

Barry laughs. "Probably not! Probably just a freeloading free spirit, gods what a pup! Like some dogs get one human, or a family, this one's like nope,  _ all, _ " he agrees.

The little dog really is smart, and he's got both humans wrapped around his paw. He's living the dream, honestly. Just being cute in exchange for food and affection.

Lup's feet rest in Barry's lap comfortably, pinning him to the couch. Good. He needs something to hold him down. He's needed it since he got back. He'll leave them be for now, they're so ticklish, but one of these days if he's lucky...maybe take it slow for now, but one day he might tickle her into a flushed counterattack, hear her laugh and feel her squirm as she tickles back. He smiles, in a way that's totally about this clever dog licking Will's face. Totally.

"I think he's got the right idea. Only thing better than one family's two." Wouldn't that be something, if she could pull it? In a way, they kind of had. She has Taako, her family, her heart, but she's got something else now, too. They all do. 

And even if things between her and Barry were a little rocky, just for the moment, they're still family. Sure they don't have the cookie-cutter nuclear thing going on, but maybe they were better for it, all of 'em. No expectations except to care about each other, to do what they can to make their world suck a bit less for everyone. 

So, she loves him. Maybe she can... dial that back or... left of romantic. There's all sorts of ways to love a person; she'll just have to find one that doesn't  _ want _ so dang much...

Barry settles in, hands well out of the tickle zone, body sinking cozy into the cushions. This is good. This is comfortable. Gods, he missed this and now he has it back and he's so fucking happy he could cry. He rests a hand on Lup's shin, just comfy, just nice.

Turns out Kate and Will have more in common than the little dog. They're both single and lonely. Barry's a smart man, he knows how this will play out, but that doesn't mean it won't be cute to watch for the next--97 more minutes? Yeesh, they're gonna fuck up a few times if it takes them that long. Time to enjoy the ride. "They'd better pay attention to that pup, I think he's tryna play matchmaker," he jokes.

Lup smiles a bit to herself. Okay, so maybe he's not just saying it's okay, maybe he's actually relaxing a bit. Good. He deserves it. She laughs along with Barry when the devious little pup drags a piece of mail from one sorry sap to the other. Ohh no, they'll have to  _ talk _ ! How could this  _ possibly end? _

"Gods, honestly. A little dog can only do so much before these fools are gonna have to like. Have a fucking  _ conversation _ ." She's about to crack a joke about poor communication, but. Pot, meet kettle. Whoops.

"I hope they do it, like look, they can be doggy coparents, they have similar values, compatible goals, whatever other bullshit Luci had to fucking romance scantron back there," he laughs. "They won't get anywhere without talking though, like how do they just live in the same apartment complex without noti--they're both really hot, how have they not noticed?"

That's not how it works, gods they must be dense. Oh well, they've got the whole movie, Barry supposes.

"Exactly! Ya don't just... live in proximity to a hottie for that long and not  _ notice _ ." Not something she knows from experience or anything. Nah...

Lup picks up the movie's case, looking for the actors. "You don't get... you don't get  _ Ryan Goslin _ \-- Wait okay what kind of name? Barry.  _ Barry _ . They named a hot guy after a baby goose, Barry. I--" She laughs, passing the case over. "They just. His name-- His name is Ryan  _ Baby Goose _ ."

"What in the--oh my gods they did, but  _ hold on _ , is Kate Winslet the name of the actress or the character? It's fucking--Lup, it's  _ fucking both _ , it's just Ryan Baby Goose as Will and Kate Winslet as  _ herself, apparently _ ," he cackles. "This is gold, Lup, I'm never gonna stop laughing about this, I hope you know. We're gonna be in the middle of something and I'm just gonna lose my shit spontaneously about  _ Ryan Baby Goose. _ "

" _ Fuck! _ No way! You're fisting me--" She snatches the case back, and proceeds to  _ lose her entire shit _ . "Barry I can't, Barry-- Barry how did they-- _ why? _ " Lup falls back to the couch absolutely  _ sobbing _ in the best way. Gods, it's been a hot minute since she's had a good and proper laugh like this. And they could both use it, too. 

"Fuck, wha-- Barry, Barry, Bear-- did they--  _ fuck _ ! Did they credit the dog? Please tell me they credited the dog, and he's got a name, cause this shit's about to be my favourite fuckin' feature film."

Barry scoops up the case to look. "I'm looking, I'm looking...oh, gods, Lup, I can't--it's  _ Jellybean! _ The dog's name is Jellybean, I'm gonna  _ lose my entire mind, _ what a name! This is the best movie  _ ever! _ " he laughs.

He's gonna be okay, at least for the duration of this ridiculous name party they call a movie. Maybe tomorrow will be hard again, but at least he's got support and this...the memory of this is a kind of support, too, he supposes. It helps, all of it does.

It's a good thing it's barely evening, cause Lup's cackle is probably enough to wake the ship. " _ JELLYBEAN? _ You are-- You have got to be  _ fisting my ass _ , Barold. You--  _ fuck! _ \-- That's too good, that's too good to be real." She laughs, breathless, wiping tears from her cheek. 

She's gonna have her work cut out for her, topping this the next time Barry needs a laugh. Maybe she'll look through the rest of the films for silly names, but probably none will beat this. But then again, maybe she doesn't have to beat today. They'll just try for a different kind of joy tomorrow. Yeah, that'll be alright. As long as she keeps Barry smiling? They're gonna be okay.

" _ Jellybean _ , I swear to--am I  _ what? _ " he wheezes with laughter. "Gods, fuck that's good, but back to whether I'm  _ fisting your ass, _ I'm--Lup that's the funniest fucking--"

_ Is that what you want? _ he almost says.  _ I'll do it, or vice versa, _ he almost says. It's all jokes until maybe, just maybe, it gets serious, to the talk they wanted to have. Not tonight, maybe, tonight's just for this, but next time who's to say?

Who's to say?

"Ohh, come  _ on _ , Bear. It's not the first time I've said it and you  _ know _ it." She rolls her eyes, drapes her hands behind her head. To be fair, she rarely takes the time to think about the actual literal  _ words _ of that one, just a thing she's always said. Not even sure where it started. 

But now she  _ is _ thinking about her actual literal words and  _ ahh geez _ maybe she should just not talk, huh. She's not gonna back down, though. Not today, not this Lup. Not when it made Barry laugh like that.

"I know this? And yet I never  _ think _ about it, and it's funny as hell? Gods, never change, alright, you're perfect," he laughs.

The movie's still going, and it seems despite the dog's best efforts these two dipshits are still cooking sad dinners for one. If they'd just look across the parking lot and say hello, that's all it would take! But they'll get there, surely.

"Damn, I was thinkin' total overhaul, but since you asked so nice..." Lup chuckles. She's missed this, not even cuddling up together, just the candour they used to have so well. It sucked there for a minute; no doubt it would suck again, someday. But it seems a little more possible that they'll figure it out when it does. 

Unlike these chucklefucks. "Come on! He was right-- He brought you to her ART SHOW, GOOSE-MAN! FUCKIN'--  _ ohh my gods _ ." She makes a sound like a sob with all the air huffed out of it. "I don't know how they showed this in theaters! Had to be straight-to-own, there'd've been riots!"

“Open your  _ eyes _ , buddy, she’s standing right th—go over there and ask her out, oh my gods!” Barry cries as the two on the screen continue their oblivion. “What’s the worst she’ll say,  _ no? _ Suck it up and do the thing, puppy needs two humans!”

He laughs hard, squeezing Lup’s shin where his hand rests. “You’re right, could you imagine? This is cute but gods it’s frustrating to watch, for fuck’s sake!”

"Puppy needs two people! Do it for Jellybean!" she pouts. "This is bullshi-- NO! NO! He just-- and she-- COME  _ ON! _ " They watch the two part ways after yet another too-brief encounter. Jellybean looks just as frustrated. Good actor, that dog. 

"I swear to the gods. Y'know what? I think this whole movie's just. Just an emotional cockblock. I don't even think they get together. No way in hell, any normal coupla people would've gotten to it already."

“I can’t believe—they were right there! You saw the way—like when he told her congratulations and they shook hands? Didn’t need to hold her hand that long, pal buddy, you did that cause you  _ wanted _ to, wake up and smell the fucking coffee!” Barry bursts out.

He flips the case to the back. “Who made this—this is emotional torture, they’ve got me going, whoever these Temple Hill people are I’m gonna kick their asses,” he manages.

Lup cackles, exasperated but having a damn good time nonetheless. "Jeff fuckin' Andrew, this is what they use in Fantasy Gitmo, I'm like 90% sure. I'd confess to anything before sitting through this whole circus a _ gain _ . The cinematography, tho, that shit slaps. And Jellybean? My boy JB out here deserves a raise. Extra biscuits all around, he's  _ carrying _ this show." 

As if on queue, the dog runs across the screen, GooseBoy's trousers in his mouth. Hell yeah, Fido, get the two hotties half naked together. Maybe  _ that'll _ work. 

Somehow, she doubts it.

“Oh yeah, dude, that’s the way to get a lady, we got clothing mishaps! We got runaway dogs! If you can live it down, this is your chance, pal— _ nooooo, _ come on! Turn— _ turn around, Kate Winslet, your GooseMan is right there, for heaven’s sake! _ ”

Barry’s gonna go through the screen and talk some sense into these two, or maybe Jellybean can. They’d be perfect together, it’s ridiculous. He grins. He’s having a good time, he should tell Lup that. He did promise to try to communicate better. After the movie, he will. No sense derailing the whole thing in the middle, he wants to see whether these fools figure it out first.

"Kate! Your Goose!" Lup drags her hands down her face yet again. "These two are going to be the death of me Barold." 

But. But for some  _ visceral reason _ , she needs to know how it ends. 

Eventually, finally,  _ painstakingly _ , that poor dog makes the impossible happen. Well, he makes  _ something _ happen. 

Jellybean is shown trotting the streets, doing his usual loop for pets and scraps, with a little note tacked to his collar. The camera pans to it. 

_ Kate _ .

Lup sits up. "Holy shit. Holy _ shitholyshitholyshit _ \-- Barry!" she stage whispers, slapping his shoulder like he isn't watching the same damn  _ miracle _ she is. "Gooseman ohmygod  _ please _ ..."

Barry watches with bated breath. “Come on, please, let ‘em have this,” he murmurs.

The little dog wriggles, not so much wagging his tail as his whole body as Kate unfastens the note. The camera zooms in on Kate’s face as she reads aloud:

**Kate—**

**Champ here thinks you’re great. I agree. Wanna get coffee this Saturday?**

**Your neighbor in 25E,**

**Will**

She looks up and the camera follows her gaze—yup, there’s Will, standing across the parking lot and smiling.

“He fucking did it! He made a godsdamn move after only like two fucking hours, hell yes!” Barry cheers. He turns to Lup, grinning. “Come on, Kate, don’t leave the dumbass hanging!”

"Yooooo! My man GooseBoy, coming through with the love letter! Very old-school, I dig it." 

Onscreen, Kate digs in her bag for a pen to write a note back. The dog sits, tail still wagging, until she tucks that note back in his collar and points him back the way he came. He gives a yip, dancing around Will's feet before he can actually grab the note: 

**Will~**

**The Attic allows dogs, How's noon?**

**K**

**~PS: He's obviously a Spot.**

Kate gives a wave, Will nods. The dog  _ boof _ s. 

The screen fades out. 

"Wait-- WHAT?!  _ That's IT?? _ " Lup balks. Then scoffs. Then outright laughs. "The au _ dacity _ !"

"Oh my gods? They  _ just _ \--are we just supposed to assume happily ever after? They barely-- _ rude! _ Where's the sap, GooseGuy? You gonna bring her flowers, you unbelievable idiot? You gonna do some treasured keepsake bullshit, I need to  _ know! _ " Barry declares. He laughs too. "At least they got  _ there, _ it was starting to look like they wouldn't at all!"

"Right!? This is bullshit, where's the flowers! The-- The-- The his 'n hers doody-bags for the dog! Give us a fuckin'-- combination Champ/Spot tag for that collar come  _ ON GUYS! _ " 

Lup falls against the couch with a huff. "At least they're done pining." 

Barry leans back on the back of the couch. "I'm glad we watched that one though, love yelling at the screen with you. Not everybody's down with that but these fools  _ deserve _ it," he says.

Lup's pout cracks with his comment, "Yeah, totally. Aggravating, but cathartic as hell. Feels good. Feel good?" One terrible rom-com probably isn't enough to wholly cancel a death-induced funk, but maybe putting a dent in it isn't too much to ask for.

"Real good," Barry confirms, stretching a little. "Got a lot more movies from that plane, too, we can totally do this some more if you're down." Gods. Today has been the best one in a  _ while, _ in several ways.

Obviously, this doesn't change everything overnight. He might still have nightmares. He might still panic or space out and forget what he's trying to do, preoccupied with what he's done and can't undo. But he has Lup--not like with them as a couple, but solidly in his corner, ready to help him fight this thing and honestly right now that's what he needs far more. He has the others, too, all willing to help. The thought makes him giddy with relief, the image of them locking arms in a line with him, squaring off against the darkness popping into his mind. It's gonna work. He's not alone. He never was, truly, even when he was in it, they were all counting down to finally being able to pull him out again. He smiles. And they did. And they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SA: Listen, this hurt to write as much as it hurt them to watch on screen. Just imagine us looking into the camera like the Office the entire time, and that's not too far from accurate.  
> ST: The first draft of this chapter caused SO MUCH yelling let me tell you!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to work, kids! Let's do some science!
> 
> (It's secretly communication!)

The next few days see a marathon of great and terrible movies from the matchmaker plane. They burn through a trilogy of superhero flicks, a few aesthetic-cinema types, and some sort of beautiful monstrosity called Palodius Blart: Market Cop. That one slaps. 

Things aren't better immediately, of course not. But every so often, that old familiarity comes back around. Breakfasts are a little less stiff, Barry even comes by to help wash vegetables or set the table some days. And after a few days of Mandated Self Care, they get back to the lab. He's getting more recognisable there, too. 

Lup pours three mugs of coffee, one black, one with juuuuuuust a touch of nutmilk, and one with the absolute works, passing the later to Barry and Taako respectively. "You joining us for some science today, broski? I dunno about Bear here, but I wanna get cracking at those power sources." While the task of tracking the Light had been tabled until further notice, focus had turned to studying the Twins' various finds, and putting them to use if possible. This had proven... much less futile.

"Aw hells yeah, count me in at least 'til it's time to rustle up some lunch," Taako replies.

"Count me in, too," Barry says. He picks up the coffee mug. "I really wanna see what's going on with those, they, uh, could you imagine all the stuff we could use them for?"

It's getting easier to get excited about things like this. Some days it's touch and go, but today Barry just might be able to get some work done, maybe even feel it in a satisfying fatigue tonight as he winds down for bed.

Lup sips her coffee, still steaming, bouncing a loose "y" sign in agreement. "Right? Like, whoever thought to store electricity like that deserves some sorta clout. Shit's cool as all hell."

As much as they don't want to think about needing things like repair materials and alternate power sources, the truth is that the Starblaster wasn't built to be a tank. It was built to ferry them and do science for a few weeks, but it'd more or less seen battle in the years since. For all they knew, it was the only thing keeping them coming back to each other. It's... a lot to think about. So for now, Lup'll just. Focus on the science. 

The crew comes and goes for breakfast, another day in paradise. Weird, how normal this routine feels now. Lup rinses her plate in the sink, passing the proper washing up off to those who didn't cook. Over the hiss of the water, she catches Taako's  _ "Ready? _ " and signs back one of her own. 

" _ Last one to the lab scrubs the beakers! _ "

They head to the lab, ready to get started on figuring out what’s what with these power sources. Barry opens up yesterday’s notes. “Alright so, we know what these things do, just gotta figure out how, and whether we can replicate it,” he says thoughtfully.

"Yeah, deffo. They remind me, like-- y'all remember those like. Information-holding crystal things from, what was it, like eighth cycle? But like instead of holding books and stuff, holding energy. Maybe we can build something like those? But tweak it? Is that anything?" She pulls out one of the samples from that year-- they're gonna have to do something about storage soon-- and settles it on a clean counter. It wasn't the same, they didn't even look similar at all, but they'd tried to reverse engineer these, too. "If anything, our notes of these might be helpful?"

Taako looks between the two objects. The two sets of notes. "Hmmm, I dunno. I still think we tear one of 'em to bits and reconstruct it."

Lup pulls one of the power sources into her arms protectively. "That's your whole school. You're biased."

“I mean, it’s not a terrible idea, I’d love to know what’s in there, but, hmmm,” Barry mused. “Did you see any damaged ones down there? Like broken open ones, or...?”

Taako shook his head. “Not that we could recognize as the same thing, anyway, I mean  _ maybe _ that’s what some of the stuff down there was?”

"Maybe we could go back and look? Now that we have a better idea of what we're looking for? I'd just hate to break a working one and like. Not be able to fix it. Especially if it turns out to be compatible with the ship, or some of the equipment we've found?" Lup looks the thing over, all firm screws with no visible cracks in the casing. Endlessly cool by engineering standards, but not exactly something she wants to go cracking open like an egg. 

Taako taps his nails against the counter in a little rhythm. "So you're tellin' me. If I can find a busted one of these? You'll let me go to town?" He smiles, the  _ clack _ of his nails pittering to a stop.

Barry laughs. "I mean  _ I'm _ fine with it, if you can find another one-- I'm with Lup on the working ones though. You're really wanting to tear into one, arentcha bud?"

"Gods, yes, gotta see what's in these things! Who knows, maybe we'll even be able to make more, or something like 'em," Taako said. He stuck his tongue out at Lup. "Barold's on my side."

"Excuse me, I'm pretty sure Barold's explicitly on  _ my _ side, right, B? I'm down to clown if you can find us another, I just don't want to crack open the only working one we've got." 

He knows they've got a point, but Taako'd never concede that easily. "Unbelievable," he scoffs. "You and your ‘precautionary measures’. I'm gonna make Mags go scrapping with me." 

"So he can carry all the heavy shit?"

_ "And?" _

Barry laughs. “Hey, hey, I’m not about to arbitrate a twin squabble,” he protests. “I wasn’t born yesterday! But also Lup’s right, you and Mags find another and I’ll personally help you go bonkers on it.”

"Then literally why am I here?" Taako shelves his hands, bouncing raised eyebrows between the two. "Taako's outtie-- if we're not back for lunch... Lulu knows how to cook." 

Barry examines the thing again. It’s really slick, he wishes they could find someone here who could walk them through how it was made. That would be easiest, just going to the source, but this is maybe more fun. This is a puzzle.

His stomach rumbles slightly, must really be true, the old joke his mom told about him being a bottomless pit. He did have a couple cups of coffee and a bite to eat, though, as much as he felt like at the time, anyhow, it’s fine, no worries. He’s fine.

Lup snorts at Taako's chasée from the lab. "Then there were two." She shakes her head, riffles through a notebook, "What'dya say we try to make some  _ actual _ progress, huh?"

"Let's do it. Okay, so, the crystals from before held information, what I'm wondering is what in there is doing the holding? Have they got other crystals, or some other substance maybe?" Barry twirls his pen in his hand, and drops it. Damn, he must be tired; it's to be expected though, these days. He picks the pen back up off the table and shakes his head slightly.

Lups eyes narrow a bit, but she doesn't say anything. He's been a little off his game, of course he has, some days more than others. But she knows he ate this morning, he's told her what to look for, as much as he could-- Barry's fine. Maybe a little tired, but who could blame him. "Yeah, right? There's gotta be something  _ in _ it. Like, the way it's structured, this can't be it. S'like... a shell. How could we... hmm..."

She runs her hands over her face, staring the thing down. "What if we Knock it? Or... Isn't there some spell that'll put a hole in a wall? If we scale  _ that _ down... is that anything?"

"That could be...yeah, that could be something, I'm trying to figure, like it's  _ sealed, _ really, is the thing, the crystals were open. Is it even  _ solid? _ Is there some sort of gas in there, or...liquid or solid's more likely than gas, I guess, it's pretty heavy. Point is though, what happens if it's under pressure and expands?" he says.

That would be buckwild, but it could be, Barry supposes. It wouldn't explain how the energy's being stored, but. Baby steps.

"Well there's a way to figure 'least one of those out. You got a uhh, one of those tuning fork things? Might be in the medbay..." She rummages through a drawer, muttering, "Slides, nope... scalpels, nope...  _ bingo _ ."

Lup turns the metal fork over, looking for the engraved note it's made to sound. "Right. Okay. You know how a tuning fork does, can you hold it against this thing? Give 'er a solid smack; if you can't feel it, I deffo can't." She holds the power source loosely between her hands, really only brushing the surface.

Barry nods. "Yeah, I got it." This is a good idea, it should give them something to start with for sure. He strikes the tuning fork, setting it vibrating and singing, and holds it to the power source's surface, watching curiously.

Lup screws her mouth to the side, attention focused on the pitch. The fork is tuned to 440, so that's an A, but they're coming through the metal too low... not quite a G, but definitely flat. "There's something solid in there. I don't think... here, feel it." She takes the fork, waiting for Barry to lay hands on the object to ring it again. "Okay, see like... the left is way higher. That's  _ weird _ . Whatever's in there's favouring one side; Maybe there's an innate lack of symmetry? Or maybe we're lookin' at it wrong..." She sets the fork down, taking down some notes. She definitely wants to get into this thing now. But  _ how _ .

"Huh. Yeah, I see what you mean, it's totally different," Barry says. He can tell the difference in pitch as she moves the fork from one side to the other. 

"I kinda didn't expect it to favor one side like that, wild. Okay. Something in there offset to the side, or what if you're right? It might be meant to go sideways and that's the bottom," he suggests, adding to his own notes.

"I mean, we could try to cast on it, but I dunno if that would break it or something... If it's magically powered? Or we mess up what's keeping it together?" She skims through yesterday's notes.

"Yeah, that's...we don't know what that would do, might be best to find out more what we're looking at first. Hmmm," he says. He rereads what he's just written. Twice. Gods, the brain fog sure is here today, as it turns out.

"Maybe we focus on figuring out what to use it on, 'least until Ko finds us another to crack open. Wonder if... y'don't think there's any way it could work as an arcane focus, right? Like it's not storing magic, but isn't electricity just like. Power?"

Her next suggestion has him thinking, though. "That might be something, too, like--yeah, electricity's a kind of power, I like where you're going here," he says. "How were you thinking it could work?"

Lup grins. "I mean, if we found the right spell, maybe that could be a way to... to get the power out? If we can use it as a sorta... combination focus/power source thing?" She jots down a string of notes, some barely-legible cursive mixed with sketchy diagrams. "If we can't? Then I came up with it first, ™️™️™️ and all that."

She catches Barry's eye, radiating excitement that's just. Not coming back to her. Of course, he's going to have off days. They all do, and his are all the more expected lately. Not his fault, but it still makes her smile waiver. "You good, B?"

"Yeah, just...didn't sleep all that well, I guess, I'll live," he says. It's true, he will  _ live, _ he is  _ living, _ it's just that sometimes it sucks the entire time.

She looks concerned. She's sweet to check. "Thank you," he says. "I'll try and sleep better tonight, maybe shift the pillows around, see what works." He gives her a little smile.

"No thanks necessary. And if we need to reinstate mandatory movie nights, just say the word." She gives his hand a pat. He's getting better at talking about it, admitting when he's not 100%. It still feels like he isn't telling her everything some days. But she can't really blame him for that. 

His smile widens. "Well, we can still watch movies," he chuckles.

"Heard Mags has been hiding a secret sequel to Palodius Blart, if'n you're game to go raid his film stash." She waggles her brow. They could stand to get a little devious, and something tells her Magnus would forgive them.

She ducks down and riffles through a cabinet, lovingly dubbed the Equipment Graveyard.  _ Where science shit goes to die _ , as Taako would say. Most of the bits and bobs in the graveyard are just missing parts, but a select few have merely run out of juice after a decade and a half, waiting for some recharging miracle. Lup pulls one such piece out, turning it over in her hands. "Shall we try to Frankenstein one of these bad boys? I'm thinking something evocation-based miiiiiight work?"

Barry watches as she picks out the equipment. He thinks he remembers it working, but gods, years and years back? "Let's do it, see what we got here," he agrees. "I'll of course defer to you on all things evocation." He tries for a little wink, maybe she won't worry so much, see, he's okay! Just dragging a little.

She plunks the equipment on the counter next to their would-be power source, and picks up a pen. "Yeah, yeah, leave the theory to me. Got me doin' the hard stuff." She winks right back-- And it's totally fine, completely platonic and joking, of  _ course _ . Totally fine. Super chill. "I'm thinkin' base components-- incantations, materials, all that-- keep in like with something like Lightning Bolt? Because electricity? But futz the somatics around to fit..." Her pen taps idly for a moment. Then she gets that signature Idea Face™️. 

"Okay this might be bullshit, but...  _ Revivify? _ " She bites the end of the pen with a wicked grin. "I mean,  _ think _ about it..."

"Okay...okay, yeah, we'd say it was  _ dead, _ hell, you pulled it out of the Equipment Graveyard, after all," Barry says with a chuckle. "We can sure try it, what's it gonna do,  _ not work _ at us? It's doing that already, so."

Gods, this is a wild idea but it just might work, and if it did? It could be so helpful, it might really make a difference. "Okay, let's do it, how do we wanna set it up?"

"Ohh  _ hell _ yeah." She laughs, drawing up a layout of the Evocation components they'd need.

"Revivify's a bit above my pay grade; can you like... interpret this to fit into some necromancy-type shit? I can handle components, natch." Lup slides her notes to him, and goes to rummage in the component drawers. She returns with a bit of pelt, and plucks the appropriate wand from her selection: glass. "There ya go, kid, show that thing whatcha got."

Barry takes the wand from her, and it's fine. No worries. "Alright," he says.

He goes to cast the spell, and it's fine, only third level. Piece of cake, won't even break a sweat.

Lup's hair stands on end as the lightning, compact and direct, alights from the wand, and for a few beautiful seconds it looks like it might work.

It's all going fine and then it’s suddenly not fine anymore and something fucks up and the spell backfires and the glass wand is  _ hot _ and Barry lets go and yanks his hand back and it's  _ instinct _ and--

The magic fizzles, and that's almost to be expected, but not the cascade of light up the wand towards its caster.

Barry feels his whole body clench in horrified anticipation the second before the glass wand hits the floor and  _ fucking shatters. _

_ Wait, what? _ Instinct pulls Lup towards him, to take the wand, break the spell,  _ something _ , but the wand's already hit the ground by the time she moves. "Shit, are you--"

"No,  _ nonononono, fuck, _ no I-- _ fuck! _ " he cries, staggering back. His heart races, he can't breathe and there are tears on his face. He threw it? He broke it—he didn’t mean to, he should’ve been in control of his own hands! Someone could’ve been hurt, and that would be—

He scrambles back, all the way 'til he hits the wall. He's shaking like a leaf. He can't think, only feel fear and revulsion and guilt. He’s dangerous, he shouldn’t be here, he should be  _ out, _ not where he can hurt Lup—"I didn't mean--shit,  _ shit, _ " he sobs.

Lup's never seen Barry move so fast, not out of battle at any rate.  _ Broken glass _ , she'd nearly forgotten. It hadn't come up again. 

A single Sylvan word has her stepping out of a mist, placing herself between him and shattered glass, a tentative hand held up to his arm as static and haze clear. 

"Barry? Barry, it's alright. Accidents happen. Can I touch you, is that okay? Are you hurt?"

Barry's not alright, he’s a mess, he's a mess and he's crying and freaking the fuck out.

Lup's in front of him. She's coming close, closer to his whole mess instead of away. She thinks he might be hurt? She wants to touch him, but should she? Okay.

"Yeah, touch, yeah," he manages, barely. He holds out his hand, the right one, the one that had been holding the wand. There's no proper burn, he'd dropped it fast, but he still feels where it had been. "I'm not--it was hot, and then I--I broke it, everything broke, I don't wanna hurt you I promise, I swear it, it was an accident--" he breaks off.

Lup takes his hand, so gently, watching his words and nodding. "Hey, hey, it's alright, you didn't--"  _ gods... _ "You didn't hurt me, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong." Her heart breaks, shatters just like the wand, and it's clear on her face. Everything this puts him through, and he's still worried about hurting others. She's absolutely going to murder the thing that hurt him like this.

He's not burnt, luckily, just a little pink. Still, she chills her hand with a murmur and a sign, and places her palm to his. "Is this any better?" She makes a point to keep her breath slow and even, easy to follow. "I'm right here, Bear. We're okay, promise."

Barry’s breathing’s all ragged gasps. Lup’s sad for him, says he didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe he didn’t today, but he remembers, he did so many things and hurt people and destroyed—and that’s what it sounded like, that’s what it was, shattered glass, sharp and sudden and dangerous, windows and dishes and art. Doesn’t she know that? She must remember flying away, and that was him, pursuing. What if he does it again, more hurt, more shards with their horrible noise and ragged edges, ready to cut? What if he can’t help it?

She cools his hand. She goes right for the source of the problem. She isn’t running away or screaming in fear of him. Maybe she’s telling the truth, maybe it’s just a harmless accident. He allows the idea into his mind, but his body’s another thing entirely, it’s still shaking apart, heart racing, lungs gasping. 

He’s supposed to do something, he promised, he’s supposed to ask. Maybe if she squeezes him tight enough it’ll hold him together for now.

“Hu-ug?” he asks, barely managing that in place of another torrent of guilt and panic.

"Yeah, of course. Com'ere," Lup pulls him into a hug, trying not to squeeze the breath out of him, but wanting to so much. She settles for resting her head on his shoulder, present enough to feel his panicked breath and counter it with the steady rise and fall of hers. 

She should clean up the broken wand, but as long as it's just them, it can wait. No one's there for it to hurt, and tracing slow shapes against Barry's back is so much more important. Lup's got no clear idea what she's doing, or if any of it is helping, but she's damn well gonna try.

"S'not your fault, Bear. It's okay. Just... breathe, alright? One thing at a time. Nobody's hurt, there's plenty of spare wands. Everything's okay." Slow circles, in time with her own breathing, try to calm him. Gods, she hopes any of it works.

Barry hugs her back tight. He hopes it’s not too much, but clinging to her this way is helping. She’s warm and solid and real. He’s just like that little robot, the absurd thought occurs to him. He needs his friend to be brave.

He tries to follow her breathing. Lup’s breathing is calm, so maybe he can trick his? He breathes. The tears are still coming, but he might not run away at any moment now. He might be able to stay here.

He doesn’t think he can go over there and clean that up. He wants to, but that’s maybe too much. He’s not sure he can look at what he’s still pretty sure is his fault. Maybe later? He might need help. He decides not to think about it. He tries, anyway.

His stomach rumbles slightly. His mouth is dry. He feels weak. One more tight squeeze. “Okay…” he tries. “Okay...okay, can we sit?”

It's actually relieving that he hugs back so tight. Maybe it's just what he needs, that solid assurance, but to Lup, it feels like her friend's still got some fight in him. And gods, that's all she can ask for. 

But she lets him go, as much as she'd rather keep him there. "Course, yeah." She tugs a chair from under the desk, and pulls the step-stool over for herself. "You feeling okay? I mean, like... any better? 'S there anything else I can do?" She wants to take his hand, brush his tears away, maintain that contact as if he could leech calm from her skin. She'd let him, in a heartbeat. But that's impossible, and probably too much. She can wait, and hope he comes to her.

Barry sits. He doesn’t wanna let her go, but he needs to sit. He’s a solid 90% of the way to saying fuck it and pulling her into his lap, just to squish him a little. That would be so out of line, probably. Does it matter right now? If it helps? Probably does, all of this is about him violently remembering his shit behavior, maybe he can try not to add to it.

He takes a shuddery breath. “A little, it just—I didn’t like that,” he says. “It was—I was scared I’d hurt you like before, shit, that was scary.” He pauses, swallows, and reaches for her hand, slow. “I think, maybe sit a minute, I think I’m thirsty? Maybe hungry too, maybe that’s it.”

Lup nods, lets him take her hand and offers the other. "Yeah, I remember what you said about stuff like that. I didn't think that spell would backfire like it did, I'm sorry." She leans her elbows on her knees, falling just a little into his space. Hopefully not crowding, just  _ there _ . 

“It’s not your fault, I must’ve done it wrong, maybe just lost focus.” Barry’s breath is steadier now, and his heart doesn’t feel quite as much like it might explode at any moment. Still not great, but better.

She looks over his palm, less angry pink than before, if only just. "I'm just glad you didn't get hurt any worse. Why don't... I'll get that glass picked up, and maybe we can get an early start on lunch? Whenever you feel like it, no rush." Going back to arcane theory right now seems an impossible task. Getting Barry feeling closer to himself though, that feels more doable. "That sound okay?"

“If you don’t mind it? I wanna fix it but I don’t think—“ Yeah, no, he can’t go back over there with all that broken glass, not yet, for sure no, he can’t even look at it. “And then lunch, yeah. Don’t—be careful? Don’t hurt yourself?” he says, eyes pleading. It would still be his fault. 

He hates this. He hates that it happened, hates that there’s a risk, now, of her getting hurt, hates that he can’t deal with his own shit and he’s dragging her into derailing everything over his hangup. What a burden. What an unbelievable pain in the ass he must be, gods.

"Hey, it's alright." Lup gives his hand a squeeze. "It was experimental, not your fault it went a little wack. It's not  _ anyone's _ fault. Okay?" 

Lup pushes off the stool, a flick of her wrist produces a smouldering ethereal hand-- in range to grab the broom from across the lab. "I'm not gonna get hurt. Promise. Just a sec." 

Sweeping up the broken wand is quick work, and soon there's a beaker of glass chips on the counter. Far from the edge, just in case. When she returns to Barry, she offers her hands. "See? All good. And later? We can do some cool science and melt it all back together, good as new. No harm done. Now what'dya say we get some grub, yeah?" Lup smiles. "I'm thinking... cinnamon toasts?"

That sounds amazing to Barry. Cinnamon toast sounds warm and comforting, quick to make, and cinnamon always tastes a little like...not winter, its opposite. Not summer, but what holds winter back. Like the warmth that keeps back the chill. His brain isn’t making sense, but he definitely needs some of that cinnamon toast.

He takes Lup’s hands and stands up. He’s steadier now, the worst is over. He can try to go forward, but maybe after a rest.

“Thanks, that—that sounds really good, I—hmmm, I’m gonna have to try and watch, I ate something this morning but maybe not enough. Might’ve had me...distracted,” he admits. He can work on that. It’s not easy, but it is simple. Something he can structure, maybe that’ll help.

Lup nods. "I guess we have to mandate seconds at breakfast. It's the only solution, more pancakes." She shakes her head, resigned to their fate, but with a giggle that breaks through the end. "Got a feeling the resident chefs'll be fairly accommodating, though."

By the looks of the kitchen, Taako probably got Mags to go along with his little scavenging hunt. Lup pushes her glasses up into her hair, and immediately makes for the pantry. "Now, I may just let you help, if you can  _ swear _ to me it won't end up like the Milkshake-ening." She snorts, pulling out a loaf of bread-- just the fluffiest, shittiest whitebread. Just the most toast-esque bullshit. She's pretty sure if Taako found it, he'd burn it. But that's why she doesn't let Taako find it. A girl's allowed her vices.

“I swear, not like the Milkshake-ening,” Barry echoes. He comes to stand next to her as she pulls out the bread. This he can do. A little spread, a little sprinkle, under the broiler. Easy, comforting, familiar.

“This’ll help,” he sighs with relief. “This feels a lot better already.”

They dance about the kitchen, passing ingredients and bumping elbows. Last cycle, maybe he would've slipped in behind her, chin on her shoulder, domestic-- just in case. Or maybe memory is mingling with fantasy, like cinnamon and sugar. 

"Yeah?" Without really thinking, Lup sets the kettle on and pulls out a couple of mugs. "Good. Mind gettin' the tea down, Bear?"

Oh, tea does sound nice. Something warm and comforting like that, definitely. "I got it," he confirms, reaching up to bring it down. That’s helping, right? Barry’s getting back to himself already. Gods, he wishes...he can't manage much of a thought of what he wants, but he wishes he was touching her. Close to her. This is enough for now, if it has to be, but he misses...he misses being hers, even if it was for show. It would make him feel so much better to be hers right now, as though she could protect him from the darkness in his own mind. Maybe she can't, but she is by his side while he fights it. And that's what he needs for now.

"Thanks for this, it's...I'll be okay soon, I think?" he says.

Lup takes the tea and gets it steeping. "Thanks nothin'." She puts out two plates, the little ones for deserts or midnight snacks. They both get loaded with a modest stack of soft, sweet-smelling, toasts, and Lup perches on the counter as she's wont to do while they wait for the tea. 

"You'd do the same for me-- for any of us. Even though midday snacking is like.  _ Such _ a huge burden." She smirks and scoots a plate over to him.

“Oh nooooo, eating cinnamon toast is haaaaard!” Barry laughs. She’s right, he would do the same, it’s just hard to be the one needing it.

He picks up a slice and bites into it. Perfect. It hits the spot in a way he hadn’t been able to put his finger on. He smiles. “This is just right,” he says contentedly.

She smiles around a bite.  _ "A sacrifice we must make _ ," she signs with a chuckle.

An almost comfortable silence hangs around them as their teas finish steeping and a downright irresponsible amount of carbs are consumed. Lup wants nothing less than to ruin it, but she made a promise. To bother him, and get him to talk when maybe he needed to. She still waits a little, but when her tea has taken on a deep colour, she turns to Barry with a soft voice. 

"Do you want to talk about it? I won't make you, but," She shrugs, staring into her mug. "Figure it might help? You... said it does sometimes, right? Doesn't have to be about the wand, y'know, I'm-- I'm here to listen about whatever. Y'don't have to, just, offer's there."

Barry could talk about it.

That's a thing he could do, and she would listen, just like she has before.

This is so much worse than anything she's ever listened to him say before, though. 

"I'm still having nightmares," he says, slowly. He licks his lips. "I'm so tired, Lup, I wake up from 'em and can't sleep again.”

He pauses, then continues, as though he can't stop. "It's--sometimes they're me, and I'm just the worst kind of monster, breaking things and hurting people and taking...everything. And I'm doing all that, but my mind doesn't want it and can't make my body stop. Some of 'em though--some of 'em I  _ want _ it  _ so fucking bad _ I can't stand it. Sometimes I'm just roaming around taking whoever and whatever I want, and what I want is  _ everything, _ like I'm starving and never full. Those ones are worse, when I wake up I feel sick. And then I want something awake, like something normal to want? And it feels the same, and I'm  _ terrified _ \--like what if it's no different and I just go fuck up a whole town over a bagel or something?"

What if he fucks up a whole plane over  _ her? _ The thought lingers in the back of his mind.

Lup does as she's promised, and listens. She's heartbroken and  _ infuriated _ for him and gods what she wouldn't give just to be able to  _ do _ something that would make a difference. That would make any of it better. She knows what that looks like for her-- her brother curled up at her back, safe in the knowledge that together they could take on anything. She doesn't know what real help might look like for Barry, though. Aside from talking, and listening, and cinnamon. 

She rests a hand on his shoulder, gentle and slow enough that he could move away or tell her no. "Barry, I'm so sorry. That's... I can't imagine. If I can... do anything, at all. My door's always open. Y'know, metaphorically." She smiles. "If you ever need someone to like, sit up with you or something. Don't even have to talk about it if you don't want. Either way, I gotcha."

Barry knows what he wants from her, but...it’s terrifying. It’s too  _ close. _

Too close to  _ all. _ Too close to  _ mine. _ Too close to  _ want. _ He can’t? He can’t be like this about her, she’s her own, but he wants all that anyway, and deep down it has him rattled. 

Maybe it’s always been like this, and his desires have always been selfish and overmuch and possessive, just ways the worst of him chooses to show itself. Maybe he’d be a better person if he didn’t want so much, or at least stifled his desires and tried not to act them out. Maybe some rules or something, only take what’s offered or maybe just necessities, no more. That’s not so different from what he’s tried before, it’s just that the stakes are higher now. No room for fuckups.

But this is offered, so maybe just...maybe if he’s really careful, like so super careful, then it’ll be okay. “I’d really like that, I, uh—It kinda helps to be around people sometimes,” he says. “Just to remind me that it’s not happening anymore, I guess.” He smiles a little. He likes having her hand on his shoulder. It feels nice to have some contact, even if he’s not sure that it’s okay for that to feel nice.

Barry smiles. It's small, and maybe uncertain, but Lup's heart skips even so. Seeing some of that pain leave his expression is worth a few interrupted nights. It's worth a lot more than that, but if that's what helps, that's what she'll do.

She gives his shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah, no problem, just like. Let me know. And thanks for talking to me about it... y'know, letting me help? I know it's not always easy to do, so like. I appreciate you letting me try." 

Part of that's selfish. Getting involved in his happiness and recovery and everything, Lup can't help but feel guilty about her motives. Because part of her, she realises, wants to fold up today and make it fit in the box shaped like last cycle. If she can be there for him, maybe they could work back to being there for each other, like they were. 

Most of her is doing it for him. But not all of her. And that's wrong. But as long as he wants her to be there, she'll have to figure out a way to do it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: This hurt to write y’all!  
> SA: Is it just me that finds hu/co so... I don't know, comforting? Maybe it's the communication...


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Museum day, everyone! Pack a lunch!

Time passes, inevitably-- at times quickly, at times painfully, but it always passes. Barry continues to struggle. As it turns out, support makes things easier, but doesn't make things perfect.

Barry gets better about allowing the crew to help him. He cleans his plate under raised eyebrows from Lup, and lets himself be dragged into movie nights and Fae Blitz and all types of fun distractions.

Still though, some days he wakes with the dawn and stays a lump, wrapped in his crocheted blanket, for hours before he can manage to leave his bed. Some nights he stares at the ceiling, unseeing and unsleeping, unable to go across the hall and ask.

He promised. He promised he'd ask.

It's hard. It's nearly impossible.

But today, Barry’s okay. It's the weekend, time to do something fun.

Time to pack up a lunch and go with Lup to the local museum. Barry's so excited; what an excellent way to find out about the culture here! He wanders into the kitchen to find Lup already up. "Museum day!" he singsongs playfully.

"Hell yeah, museum day!" Lup closes up the cooler, one that was meant for samples at one point, but since thoroughly cleaned at repurposed. It gets much more use this way, and she thinks they're all a bit better for it.

Barry looks good. Months have passed and with it so much of the quiet storm she'd seen him carry. It's still there, she's not naïve enough to believe it's over. As much as she'd hope, for his sake. But every day is a step closer to alright. That much she has to believe. 

She throws a jacket over her arm, "You ready to get this show on the road?"

"Am I ever! Love me a museum, always. And here? I can't wait to see what all these folks have, they've got robot bodies for godssakes, there's gotta be some amazing stuff to see." He steps aside to let her through the door, then follows her out.

He feels like bouncing on his toes, running ahead and back and around and just taking her by the hand to pull her forward. He feels about six, ready to Go To The Big Museum. He could almost forget that being alive is both terrible and terrifying and that it's not safe to want anything, at all, actually. Almost. Pretty darn close.

"Hope they have a kickass gift shop," he jokes.

Lup laughs, "I still think they're holding out on robot cats.  _ Gots _ to get me one of those." She stops, wheeling around on her toes. "I'm gonna make one. Swear to the gods it'll be my... my magnum opus." 

They find their way into the city proper, full of the usual suspects. Well, probably the usual suspects. She's still getting used to telling automatons apart. It'd help if they were a little closer with the denizens of this place, but they've managed peace, and that's not nothing.

She grins, falling back in step with Barry. "A cat that can't die. Can't get sick. I think cats deserve that. Y'think a robot cat would still sunbathe?"

Barry gasps. "Ohhh nooo, that would be so cute! D'you think their...casing? Metal skin? would get too hot though? They'd have to have hella cooling fans... _ oh gods it'd sound like purring! _ Lup, I want a robot cat so bad now, you have no idea!"

They walk along, and Barry glances around at the robots living here. In most respects, it's a totally normal society. The only difference is that the people here are metal and wiring, not flesh and bone. It's just another way to be, and honestly Barry can see the appeal. Not having to worry so much about illness or injury would take so much off most folks' plates. That'd take out a big chunk of his anxiety, right there. Maybe even all of it? How did these folks' consciousness work with their physical components? Motherboards can't have chemical imbalances, right? Huh.

" _ Holy shit, you're a fucking genius. _ " Lup's eyes grow nearly the size of her smile, joy muffled only by the hand pressed to her lips. "Please never say the words  _ metal skin _ like that again, but Barry it would  _ purr _ ,  _ Barryyyyyy... _ "

She's already plotting out how to hinge little claws into the toebeans-- both being essential parts of a Happy Cat-- when they reach the museum. It's a strange sight, the buildings all standing more or less intact while the humanoid population had been so drastically altered around them. Less so from a scientists mind, but still. Wild. 

"Where to first? We  _ have _ to check out aero-space, but I su _ ppose _ I could be persuaded to be patient." She grins, taking in the tall arches of the halls around them, peeking around the visitor booth. "Y'think they have those little... audio-tour thingies?"

“Oooh, I hope so, I’d love that. Wonder how it’s laid out, anyhow?” Barry stops in front of a map. It has a path marked out through the exhibits, hitting each one without doubling back, but the instructions encourage guests to explore at will.

“Okay, so aero-space is here, biotech in this corner, engineering...” he checks the time. It’s early. “You wanna just do the whole thing? Just follow the arrows? We’ve got all day and I’m, you know—“  _ feeling up to doing anything at all, gotta jump on this while it’s here— _ “I’d love to see it all if you’re game,” he says, turning that eager look on her.

Lup looks practically giddy. "I'm  _ so _ game! Let's do it." She bounces on her toes, peaking over the desk like a little kid while the guide sets up a pair of headsets for them. The over-ear headphones look a little goofy with her ears sticking out behind them, but Lup's too excited to really care. She cranks the volume to something she can make out most of-- honestly Barry can probably hear hers at this rate, but who  _ cares? _ It's  _ Museum Day! _

The voice in the audio guide says something about... "Natural Sciences? Right? Oh my gods, Barry, do you think they had dinosaurs?"

“Gods, I hope so, love me some dinosaurs. I used to wanna slide down their tails,” he says.

Lup looks so  _ happy _ to Barry _. _ She’s so excited just to wander around a museum with him, and honestly it’s a treat. No one’s threatening their lives at the moment, and it’ll be months before this plane...well, best not to think of that on Museum Day. 

In another life this could be a date. They could hold hands and wander through the exhibits. They can still do one of those two things, anyway, and it’s perfectly appropriate for scientists to do together. It’s not at all like the scary feeling of wanting, it’s just being well-aligned with a professional expectation. Gods, he loves his job. Yup, there it is.

Lup grins, and the audio kicks in something about... soup.. tails...  _ marsupials! _ The plaques on the glass cases confirm her theory.  _ Got it in one. _

" _ Same-same! Or ride one, like the tallest horse ever. _ " She sticks to signing, even though there are few people-bots about, it still feels appropriate to be quiet in the exhibits. Strange habit, but it feels comfortable.

" _ Yeah! Ride on the a-p-a-t-o-s-a-u-r-u-s, way up there, just hanging out and eating all those plants, _ " Barry agrees with a laugh. " _ That's about my speed, anyway, big ol' herbivorous boys. _ "

Some of the marsupials are a little different from the ones at home, a few species he's wholly unfamiliar with. The displays are thorough, though, and he can see how they evolved from a more familiar ancestor. " _ Look at these guys, oh my gods I love them, _ " he says of one long-nosed chunky creature. " _ They're cute! _ "

Lup presses her hands to the glass, looking like she might tear up. "Barold," she whispers, forgoing quiet for  _ dramatique _ . "I need one. That is entirely too damn cute." 

She turns to him, with just the biggest, sappiest pout. "It's so fat I'm gonna  _ cry _ . The  _ snoot _ , Barry. Look at it! Look at that snoot and tell me you wouldn't kill for that little dude."

"I would name him Gerald, gods, Lup, look at him there, a snoot so delicate and an ass so powerful. He has my sword," Barry swears, hand over his heart. "I'm now part of the Wombicoot Protection Squad. We can get jackets!" He laughs.

Lup cackles, throwing her hands over her mouth while a voice in her ear chirps on about some nonsense like habitat. 

_ "On my honour, if ever there is a w-o-m-b-i-c-o-o-t in need..." _ She only signs because she's too caught up schooling the laugh out of her breath. " _ You think I won't have a patch on your jacket by next week, you're mistaken." _

Barry wheezes with laughter. " _ We have to, oh my gods, could you imagine explaining it to folks? Step aside, please, the Wombicoot Protection Squad is here, no photos, we've got this, _ " he adds, switching to sign to match her, easy like it used to be. It feels like they're closer to being back in sync lately, and that's making good days like these a little more frequent, and bad days a little more bearable.

**"--crush their predators against the top of their burrows using their powerful hindquarters--"** drones the audio tour guide.

" _ Oh my gods??? Did you get to the part about their butts? Tell me you did, _ " Barry gasps.

Lup follows his signs with concern and a snort. " _ I... what?" _ She focuses on decoding the audio, shaking her head for a moment before continuing, " _ I think I missed it, please don't tell me they're like skunks?" _

She glances at the display again.  _ "I would still love the stinky baby, but it'd be on thin fuckin ice _ ."

" _ No, they--holy shit, they run away from predators, down into a burrow, right? Wait for them to go in after, then squash the predator's head with their ass, that's the best thing I've ever heard, _ " Barry recaps. He puts his hands on the glass of the display and gives his head a little shake with a smile. "Gerald, you absolute legend!" He chuckles. "I'm with you though, even if they did stink, like who's perfect, come on!"

That has her laughing all over again, hand braced against the glass. " _ No way! You're fisting me, that's the Best Thing! _ "

She wipes a false tear from her eye, voice taking up the lilt of a familiar song, "Look at my son. Pride is not the word I'm looking for..." She sniffs, turning to Barry with a hand on her heart. "He's perfect."

" _ Clever boy. Baby. Clever baby, _ " Barry replies, still laughing. " _ A perfect, beautiful boy, I love him so much! _ "

Gods, just imagine if they had a little wombicoot friend? Maybe...maybe there's room for Gerald at the house in Barry's imagination. Maybe. The house is still there, though it hasn't held much of Barry's attention in months now. He'd been having to focus on the next minute or two, the next hour, the next day. But long-term stuff? Maybe there  _ is  _ a long-term? Barry hopes so.

Lup loves the way Barry signs. It's silly, maybe, but it says a lot about a person. And there's so much precision in his  _ perfect _ , an intensity in his  _ beautiful _ . She can't help her smile as it turns impossibly softer.

" _ You think wombicoot sounds anything like mongoose? _ " She steps back from the glass, and pauses the guide. They can take their time. And she's got Barry and his precision to keep her in the loop.

" _ Maybe? That would be something, if it did, or who knows? Maybe it's close, but just different enough that there are misunderstandings all the time, _ " he muses.

Barry will remember this day, he decides. It's not a special day like a holiday or anything, just the two of them spending time together. But he's felt more himself today than he has in a long time, and that's not nothing. That's hope. And maybe if all of this can beat back the horror now, the memory of it can do the same thing later. It's worth a shot, if he can only focus in the moment. He'll certainly try.

The museum’s halls are wide and unending, with promises of more wonders at every turn. Some things surely seem mundane to the locals, but even things like extinct plants and ancient cultures are alien in their details. 

They pass walls of gems and minerals in glass casings, bones of animals familiar and strange, and it's utterly enrapturing. Lup pauses at a door, chained shut-- the remains of a butterfly room, closed after this world's plague took out its organic inhabitants. If only there was a way to bring a piece of this world with them, to save something, even if the Light was too far gone to protect this place. 

She'll remember this day, though. And maybe that will be enough. They can't save everything, but each piece of their journey that they can retell is something. The least she can do is tell their stories. So she'll try.

\--

They wander through exhibit after exhibit, animals and plant life and rocks, all morning long. As they approach the entrance into a wing dedicated to various forms of technology, Barry's stomach rumbles slightly. Lucky Lup's packed them something to eat, museums are both hungry work and an all-day affair, evidently.

He nudges Lup. "You wanna do lunch and then check out this side?" he asks.

"Yeah, sure thing! There's gotta be like..." She pulls out the map, long forgotten in the lunchbox for favour of following arrows. "Yeah, there's a cafeteria thing over this way? Don't wanna get yelled at for having food near all the science." She points them in the right direction, and some familiar feeling wants to reach out and take his hand. 

She doesn't-- that'd be crossing a line, probably. But she wants to. 

One of these days, they're going to have to have that conversation. Probably. But today's for exploring and learning, and for overly-fancy sandwiches. Serious stuff can wait.

Barry looks at the map and grins. "Perfect! That's not even that far, easy!"

In another life, he'd do a hundred little things. Call her cute names,  _ babe _ or  _ darling _ or  _ my dear _ . Take her hand or wrap an arm around her. Pat her butt all sneaky when no one's looking. Say "kiss the cook" and then do it. But for the moment, him walking with her to the cafeteria and waiting eagerly to see what delights she's got in that cooler means the same thing. And maybe...maybe one day he can have those things with her, but he needs to be sure she gets something out of it. He's kinda fucked up right now, and one good day doesn't mean that's all the way done with.

So. He'll get better. He'll keep at it, because he doesn't like being so fucked up, and when he thinks he can't keep going, he'll keep going anyway because Lup deserves a healthy friend.

But for today he's gonna eat one of those sandwiches, for sure.

\--

They take their time, browsing the exhibits until it's time to go.  It's well past sunset when a museum guard comes to inform them of closing time. There's still a wing dedicated to the arts left to be seen, but maybe they can drag Taako along for another day with promises of historical alien fashion. And if not? Museum Day the Sequel sounds just as fun. 

The city sports well paved roads and street lamps, but Lup offers her arm to Barry anyway. It's a good day for both of them, it seems, and she won't have a little bit of shadow ruining it. 

And if she's a little comforted by the contact too? Well that's probably harmless.

Barry is tired in a good way as they head out into the dim streets and back toward the ship. He takes Lup's arm. She always remembers.

He's so lucky that she always remembers. Isn't that it? Having someone by his side who remembers what he needs and doesn't hesitate to offer it is something that sounds simple on its surface, but it's a treasure. She's a treasure.

\--

Good days like that museum trip anchor Barry, seeing him stand ever firmer against the dark storm in his mind. He stores his good days like food against an oncoming famine. He hoards them in his memory, like the sharpest weapons to fight off despair. He keeps those good times close for times like now, a few days later.

He stands tall, too tall. He sees his hands, clenched into violent fists, made of blackness and swirling color. They swing, they connect, he hears the cries and sees the damage. He will have the beautiful Light. 

"Where is it? Give it to me!" he demands. It's  _ his, _ it's all  _ his, _ and these fools will suffer for keeping it from him. He's been patient and passive for too long.

He starts awake. Another nightmare, one of the ones where he  _ wants. _ Barry curls in on himself, gasping, for a moment before wrapping himself up in his blanket and wrenching himself out of bed and across the hall. He promised he'd ask. It's okay to ask. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay...

"Lup?"

Lup blinks awake at the slit of light coming in from the door. She swears she shut that, but it creaks open further until she can see the silhouette in the doorway. Reaching for her glasses, she pulls herself up to sit. "Barry?.."

It's late, and takes her a second to yawn and stretch awake. "What's, uhh, what's up?" A lamp flicks on with a snap, more for his sake than hers. She blinks back the light, but she's already seen the tight way he holds that quilt. She's seen a similar timid look on her brother's face a hundred times and knows it well. It's the first time Barry's come to her with it, though. 

"Come'ere," she nods him over, scooting to make room on her bed. "You... wanna talk about it?"

He crosses the room to her bed and climbs in. Anxiety and guilt and fear swirl through him. He's not sure he can say anything. He's not sure he can keep from saying anything.

It's better with her close. His heart still pounds, but not as horrifically as a moment ago. He nods slowly. "'Nother nightmare," he manages. "I wanted it this time." He's never quite sure whether that makes it better or worse.

The second he's in bed next to her, she's reaching out for a hug. She's still not certain enough to pull him to her, but she hopes he's alright enough to accept it if he needs it. He came this far though, and that's not nothing. 

"You're awake now, Bear. And you don't want it now, right? Just a dream."

Barry goes right into the hug. “Right. Right, just a dream, I don’t want it,” he echoes, trying to convince himself. 

It’s easier to believe her than himself at the moment. That might be the worst of it: the Hunger has broken his trust in himself and his own goodness.

He breathes deep, but it’s still coming out shuddery, shot through with little distressed sounds he can’t quite stop making. This is better, though, much better than staying in his bed alone as though he deserves that.

"Just a bad dream," she breathes, tracing her hands across his back. "Everything's okay, promise." 

She doesn't keep time in seconds here, she keeps it in little circles on his shirt. Her breath stays steady, a practiced calm that's easy to follow. When his breaths grow a little more even, the distressed flick in her tail settles down, too. 

"What can I do?" She pulls back just a bit, keeping her arms over his shoulders. "I can go make some tea if you want? You can stay here as long as you want if that helps, I don't mind." She smiles, hoping some of her calm can seep out to him. "Not like we haven't made it work before."

“It’s cold out there, you don’t have to—can we just stay?” Barry asks. He doesn’t want to make her go out in it; he doesn’t want to go, either. It’s ridiculous, it’s only a light chill, just night doing what night does. It’s well within a comfortable range. But he still hates the idea of anything less than several blankets and an elven bedmate to keep back the chill.

Maybe it’s not the chill of the ship. Maybe it was the cold in his dream.

“You sure you don’t mind? I can go back if it’s easier, but—but I do feel better here.” He says the last part almost like he’s embarrassed; he is, really, the whole thing has him feeling needy and small, but he keeps trying to remember that she offered. She wants to help. She said so, and when he woke her she welcomed him, so maybe it’s okay to lean on that a little more.

"Yeah, sure, of course." She pulls back the blankets and pats the space beside her. If cold is bad, she can definitely help with that. Whatever else he needs... Well, she's no mind-reader, but she can try. 

"I don't, uhmm. I don't really know what'll help? I mean, I know what helps me, and like Taako, but..." She settles back against a mass of pillows, trying to figure if any of those things would help him. "If you wanna talk, like about that or something else? Or just try to go back to bed, like I said you're totally welcome to stay here. I've got the projector if you wanna watch that  _ stupid Goose Man movie _ again." She chuckles. "Whatever you want."

Barry settles into the spot, pulling blankets up and layering his over top. “Thanks,” he says, then pauses for a long minute. “This is better, like you know how some places are definitely the same temperature but different warmths? Like how it feels warmer if there’s soft stuff and color and feels colder if everything’s like...smooth, or whatever? That whole place felt like a terrible office building, like glass and metal and marble. Chilly.” Maybe it’s not the best explanation, but it’s what he’s got.

Lup huffs a laugh. "Yeah, no, I get that. Remember a couple worlds back, Dusk? When y'all tried to stick me in the medbay for  _ weeks _ ?" Her eyebrows raise, but there's a laugh in her voice that says she's forgiven it. " _ That place _ is chilly. Too sterile. The worst." 

She tucks her arm under her head, hooking her glasses on the headboard. "Spent way too much time in clerical offices as a kid to put up with that shit now. But like. The lab is totally different. For some reason. More familiar I guess."

Barry nods. “Yeah, the lab is different for sure. Maybe cause we work in there and kinda control it, I don’t know.” He relaxes a little more, warm through in the soft bed. “But it’s warm here. And I’m not like, desperate. It felt like being just ravenously hungry but for everything I didn’t have all the time in there. But I’m pretty much good here, you know?” Well, there are a few things he wants, but. He can be content, surely, with what he has; he can try anyway.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Definitely something about control." Here, safe under the covers, they've got control down pat. Even a bit more than that, as Lup tucks her hand under her cheek to keep from pulling him closer. 

"You're not hungry are you? I was serious about that tea," she jokes. She already prodded him at dinner, as she's wont to do nowadays. Always an extra roll or leftovers tucked in the fridge, just in case. He's getting better about asking, but she still promised to check in, so she will.

Barry pauses, checks. Is he? “No, I’m not hungry. Wonder if that’s part of why I made it over here?” It could be, just gave him enough extra  _ oomph _ to make a good decision.

He’s about to make a decision that feels daring, though. She did say—well, he hopes she’ll just be firm and forgive him if it’s not okay. “When you say as long as I want—is it okay if I just stay til morning? Maybe see if I can sleep? I can go back if you want your own bed to yourself, totally get it,” he adds hastily.

Lup doesn't so much as flinch at the question. "Yeah, 'course. S'long as you share the quilt, that thing is the  _ cosiest shit _ ." She laughs and pulls her own mass of blankets up around her. Never a chilly moment in her room, that's for sure. 

"Want me to leave the light on? I don't mind-- I've slept through your snoring, so..." She snorts. 

Is it wrong, to want to close her eyes and pretend things are back to the way they were? They're closer, now, but it still feels like a cavern sits between them. Like his arms are just out of reach.

“It’s  _ so cozy, _ here just—that good?” Barry says, spreading part of it over her. “The light’ll help, if that’s okay. And you know you snore, too, so that’s just a party as far as I’m concerned, like a big ol’ snorefest. Just, you know, tell me to fuck off if you need to.”

Barry feels safe. Maybe even safe enough to sleep, which would be a hell of a thing. “Night, Lup.” He closes his eyes.

She grins, helpless against snuggling down when his arm drapes over her, and only entirely sad when he takes it back. Still, this is nice. Goofing and being there for each other. Worth every wanting thrum of her heart. 

"Night, Bear. Wake me up if you need anything, mkay?" She tucks her hands under the pillows, burrowing down until she's little more than the tips of her ears and the tail of a frizzy plait. 

She falls asleep, with Barry's comfortable presence beside her.

Barry actually does fall asleep. That doesn't usually happen after the nightmares, usually he's cursed to wakefulness afterward. Tonight, though, next to Lup, warmly cocooned in blankets, he drifts off comfortably and doesn't fall back into a nightmare. 

\--

Lup sleeps, lightly, as she's wont to do when she's worried. Of course she's cozy and more than content, but she's understanding more and more what it is that Barry dreams about. Wanting too much, wanting to the point that it almost hurts. It's nothing like he's going through, how could it be? But still, she wants. And it's not fair. 

She wakes well before her alarm, face still buried in the pillows. Except, this pillow moves, the soft rise and fall of a breath she recognises. There's a comfortable weight across her waist, mirrored by her arm wrapped tight around Barry. When had they... They hadn't fallen asleep like this, right? 

Barry seems fast asleep for the moment, and gods does he deserve it. She couldn't possibly move and risk waking him. Not that she  _ wants _ to, but maybe he didn't want this? Maybe he would wake up and shy away from her. Or maybe, just maybe, he'd press a quiet kiss to her hair with a  _ good morning. _

He won't. But it's a nice thought. 

She doesn't move. She tells herself it’s for his sake, he deserves a good sleep, but that guilty, wanting part of her knows it's not really. It's the same part that buries her face in his shirt, and dozes there until her alarm jostles her awake again.

Hours pass, and Barry wakes up the next morning to a familiar-but-not-too-familiar sensation.

Lup's alarm. Also, her arms. And also, pretty much the rest of her.

The two of them are hopelessly tangled up in each other, in a warm, cozy knot of human boy and elven girl.

Barry doesn't move immediately. He wants this, but what if she doesn't? She's not responsible for what she does in her sleep, maybe she didn't mean to. Gods, couldn't he let her be? When she was trying to help him?

He tries to slip free gently, so she won't wake. The moment he does, she mumbles a little and tightens up her hold on him. It's official. He is her stuffed toy now, he is Bear-y. He can't possibly move.

As Lup begins to stir, Barry yawns a little and blinks. "Morning, it's--hi," he says bashfully. He lets go of her-- _ not too fast, _ he tells himself,  _ not like you don't wanna cuddle with her, just like you don't wanna make her cuddle with you! _

"Didja, uh--didja sleep good? I didn't keep you awake too long or anything, did I?" he asks.

The missing weight of his arm draws a little sound of confusion from a half-sleeping Lup. As she wakes, she remembers exactly where she is and who she's pressed up against, and  _ exactly _ why that’s not okay. 

"Shoot, sorry," she scoots back and pushes up to sit. "I-- yeah, did you, uhh... geez, sorry to... get all up in your space, I didn't mean..."  _ Yes I did, yes I did, and I hope you meant it too... _ "Sorry."

Oh, wait, no, it's okay? It's okay for her to cuddle up with him--unless she doesn't want to. That's okay too.

He  _ so _ wants to. He's so glad they did. 

"No, uh, no worries, it's fine, you know, warm...I didn't mean to uh, squish you or anything though, sorry," he fumbles. "You know me, just uh--I probably should get dressed, I guess, thanks for...you know, being there."

"Yeah, no, no worries, I'm like. Unsquishable."  _ What the hell does that mean, Lup? Fuckin' "unsquishable"... Jesus Fantasy Christ. _ "Yeah, I should. Shower. And. Yeah, no problem, any time. You're always welcome, y'know." She plucks her glasses from the headboard and untangles herself from the blankets. Suddenly, her cozier-than-usual baggy t-shirt and boyshorts seem downright indecent. If her blush was any deeper, her ears would be  _ red _ . 

She hops up and plucks a towel hanging by the door on her way out. "I'll uhh. I'll see you at breakfast?" And then she's gone, mentally cursing herself all the way to the washroom.

"Yeah, uh, see you there. Have a good shower," Barry says awkwardly. She heads out the door and he rolls out of the bed, gathering up his blanket. He heads back to his room.

She said it was okay. He trusts her, it's fine, she'd tell him otherwise. Maybe it's okay to just...let it be what it was, never speak of it again, as they say.

Alright, here it is. Barry had a nightmare, and out of six possible people, chose one who had specifically offered to help if that happened to comfort him. And then they cuddled. And it was comforting. Face value, it all checks out. It's pragmatic.

Gods, is he in love with her though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Build those bonds, kids!  
> SA: Listen, it's fine, it doesn't have to mean anything! Except like, it Does Mean Those Things, but like. Not Inherently! It's Fine!


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew heads off on a mission below the city, ready to discover what's underneath it all.
> 
> Meanwhile, Barry also digs for what's underneath it all.

"CAPTAIN? CAP--  _ Shut up, I'm not gonna drain the battery! _ Captain, are you there? We've found something." 

Lup's Sending comes midday, unexpected. A strange and insistent beeping sounds behind her voice while she explains what she and Taako have found. By the time they return-- Taako pristinely Prestidigitated, and Lup wide-eyed and dusty-kneed-- Davenport has called the rest of the crew to the flight deck. 

The twins aren't all that far behind. Lup lays out a faded parchment-- a map of the city-- with a large area to the south of the ship highlighted in fluorescent yellow. 

"There's something under the city. Something massive. With the amount of magical radiation it's giving off--"

"Lup, you don't mean? The Light?" Lucretia sidles up beside her, already taking down the shape of the highlighted area in her own notes. 

Lup shakes her head. "Nah, it's different. Doesn't have that..." She struggles for the word for a moment before Magnus chimes in. 

"The craveability?"

Lup snorts. "Yeah. That."

Barry peers at the map. “It’s under? Like is it submerged? Or on the lower level you guys were scrapping in?”

“Down a level from where we went, like  _ under _ under,” Taako supplies.

Davenport listens intently. “Is it somewhere we can get to? Have you found a way down?”

"Well. Yes and no." Lup signs for a pen, which Luce is quick to loan. "So we can get there, I  _ think _ . There's maintenance tunnels  _ here _ and  _ here _ , but like. The whole deal is underwater."

Taako sidles up to his sister, looking over the annotated map. "Cha'boy can get us breathing under there no sweat, but we don't know if shit's collapsed or what."

"Exactly." Lup traces a path from one of the circled maintenance entrances, and stops abruptly at a turn. "We got about here before the whole shebang was waterworks. And like, if we've gotta move stuff, we can get stuff moved, but I'm not doing that underwater  _ alone _ , y'know?"

Barry considers this. Not to be an entire coward, but he can’t swim, breathing or no. And he...he maybe needs a little time alone. Clear his mind, maybe, not in a bad way, just a little recharge?

“I can move stuff, hell I’ll move anything,” Magnus says enthusiastically.

“We’ll need you if there’s anything overlarge,” Davenport agrees. “Merle, we’ll need you just in case, and Lucretia. I’d like to go down myself...”

“I can stay with the ship,” Barry volunteers quickly. “I don’t, uh, don’t swim, you know.” He shrugs.

Davenport nods, looking over the map. "Then it's agreed. If we can’t get the Light, we may as well try and find out what that is. If it’s a powerful form of energy, we don’t want the Hunger to get it." 

There's a round of "Right"'s and "Aye"'s, and while the crew figure out logistics, Lup takes a step back from the table to get in Barry's eyesight.  _ "You sure?" _

_ "I'm sure, I'll be okay. Probably better I don't, just in case," _ Barry answers. He gives Lup a reassuring smile.  _ "Keep me updated? Don't make me have to yank us all out of here, I will turn this ship around," _ he jokes.

Probably best that he doesn't go down among the broken ruins Lup and Taako have been combing through. Probably better to avoid traipsing through fallen, shattered buildings and then getting drenched in cold, cold water. The swimmer's ear alone--like, fuck it, honestly. Barry'll stay on the ship and maybe just--have a little ponder. That's probably best.

Lup stifles a laugh, and nods.  _ "Let us know if we need to come back, okay? _ " 

_ ”Promise,” _ Barry answers. He will. He’ll be okay, though. He’ll just stay on the ship and won’t die two years in a row, which will definitely be a plus. And if worst comes to worst, he’ll get them all out of there, as quick as he can, only minutes—ideally seconds—spent in that horrible place. He could save them, this time, if it came to that, in a way that wouldn’t hurt as bad as his last go around at saving someone.

Well, okay. Now he has a plan, everything’s less scary with a plan. He’s got this.

"Care to share with the class?" Taako raises an eyebrow at Lup, catching the end of her sentence. "Secrets, secrets, are no fun..."

She shrugs, her aloof pout betrayed by the toying swish in her tail. "Ohh, we're starting a band. Sorry, Broski, ya didn't make the cut." She mirrors Taako's pout before he even has time to properly wear it. 

Their captain interrupts any backlash, "Alright, we'll head out at oh-eight-hundred. Taako, Lup, run me through exactly what you saw down there."

Lup gives a nod, and shoots a quick few signs to Barry.  _ "Duty calls. _ "

\--

The crew, sans Barry, head for the sunken remains of Underton bright and early, with reminder on top of reminder handed off as they each pack up. Merle points out the strategically placed epipens in each room,  _ again _ . Davenport makes sure he could run through the pre-flight checklist front to back to front again. Taako locks up his Good Cheese. For Barry's own safety, he assures. 

"Send if ya need anything, okay?" Lup packs up her share of rations, double checks her component pouches, wand, etcetera. "Like, if we need to head back, deffo, but like. I think Cap'n would appreciate the occasional update too, y'know? And I'll keep you posted from down there, promise." She slings her bag over her shoulder, mental checklist completed (hopefully), and nods.

An ear swivels at what she can only recognise as her brother yelling a room away and she rolls her eyes. Well. "We'll be back soon, 'kay?" She pats his arm, and heads out, preceded by a shout of " _ I'm coming, chill! _ " 

And then, the Starblaster is quiet.

Barry stands alone on board the ship as the door closes. It's fine, the crew will be back soon. He'll just...huh. Do something, he supposes, maybe relax. Maybe a cup of tea. No use being a ball of nervous energy now if he may need to fly the ship later.

He won't. He won't need to, it's fine. Nothing to worry about.

He heads for the kitchen, but stops. He turns and heads for his room, coming back a few moments later with his big crocheted blanket and a fresh notebook and pen. He deposits them on the couch, then heads to the kitchen to make some tea.

He leans against the counter, waiting for the water to boil. No need for a snack, the crew had only just finished breakfast a bit before they left. He took down a mug, getting everything prepped, then poured himself a mug when the kettle whistled. He turned off the stove and took his mug to the couch.

Nervous.

Ridiculous.

It’s just a notebook, what’s it gonna do?

He settled in on the couch, pulling the blanket close around him, tea on the side table. He picked up the pen and opened the notebook.

**Dying sucks.**

Alright, way to start, kinda dumb, but. Okay.

**It sucked and I hated it. It was cold and awful, and I should've missed everyone but I didn't because also I was evil.** ~~**It doesn't matter. It's fine.**~~

Now  _ that’s _ ridiculous. Who’s he trying to shield from this? No one else will read it. He scratches the pen over the minimization. Just. Try again. It won’t help if he doesn’t try.

**It's not fine, like at all. I'm scared, and not just of dying again, either, that would be way too fucking easy, wouldn't it? I'm afraid to want anything or anyone, but I DO, I want Lup so bad, I want her to be mine again but for real, but I'm so worried that makes me evil. Does it?**

Barry reads back over the words. Wow, he’s just, getting right into it, huh? These thoughts finally have a place to go and there they fucking go. Okay. Doesn’t really make them look any kinder, but it’s a start. Maybe he can just dump them all on the page and sort later?

**What if I tell Lup that I love her, and she doesn’t love me back because I suck now? I can’t handle it if she stops talking to me again, I can’t. And what if she does wanna try? She just has to deal with my nightmares and clingy shit? What kind of a relationship is that for her? It’s not fair.**

**IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR**

That’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s not fair he died, not fair he spent three months in the Hunger as an absolute monster. He’d do it in Lup’s place, absolutely, again and again, but it’s not fair that it was even demanded of him. Fuck Kevin. Fuck the Hunger. It’s not fair.

Barry sets the pen down. This sucks, but also? Maybe he can just...if he gets mad about something it usually goes away, either because he just needed to get it out of his system or because he finally squared up and did something about it. He sniffs a little and picks up the pen.

**I shouldn’t have had to die. Neither should Lup. None of us should. It was stupid and I’m pissed and sad. I never knew I could be so fucking angry.**

**I never knew how bad I could want something.**

**I never knew I’d kill for it. That’s really bad, I hate it, I don’t want it. I think it broke me?**

**It hurts.**

Well. Barry takes a shuddery breath and reads that back again. Those sure were feelings words, he’s pretty sure that’s how it should go. At least some of this mess might be salvageable? He’d be way more worried if all of these impulses were just okay with him. He picks up his tea and takes a sip. He’s got a lot of writing to do, it looks like. Lucky he’s got some space for it.

\--

A few hours pass, and the sun of this plane is well overhead when Barry feels that familiar magical static in his ear. 

_ Barry? 'S Lup, just checking in. We've hit a bit of air, everything's going as well as it can down here. Everything chill top-side? _

The moment her voice goes quiet, the static begins to fade, the connection threatening to close.

“Lup? Yeah, everything’s okay up here. I’m super curious what those readings are coming from, let me know when you find the thing. Stay safe, okay?” he says.

_ I love you, _ he doesn’t say before the connection fizzles.

“I love you,” he whispers into the empty room, safely unheard and secret.

He leafs back through the notebook. Fast, messy handwriting marred by scratched out words and occasional tearstains fill pages and pages now. He likes it though. It’s satisfying to know that the scribbles and strikeouts cover bullshit and what follows to replace them is the truth. It feels like progress.

He picks up the pen again.

**Holy shit I just realized I did the thing for me this time. Usually when someone’s sad I make them a little spot where it’s warm and comfortable and they have food or drink or whatever and then listen to them, but I figured out a way for me to have it** ~~**without bothering anyone**~~ **just for me. Wonder if other people do this?**

Probably they do, Barry imagines, in some form or fashion. He can probably manage it for him again, too. It’s nice that it’s not anything too daunting.

**So I think I need a plan. I can’t drag Lup into this with me; even if she wants a relationship I can’t give enough to it to be fair to her. What if she needs something and I’m having a bad time? I need to be steadier before I even talk to her about it. So, just friends for right now, and I’ll keep trying to write in here and maybe--** he pauses. He’s not looking forward to this part. **I can try to get an idea of the scope of this, like write down what parts are hurting and start figuring them out one at a time,** ~~**I don’t know**~~ **that could work.**

He sticks the pen into the spiral and sets the whole thing down on the side table. He gets up, picks up his mug, and heads for the kitchen. He could really go for a sandwich about now.

\--

_ "Are we - are we just gonna burn every world that we can’t save? Just to keep the Hunger from getting its hands on it? How does that make us any better than them?" _

_ "If we don’t—if we let the Hunger get stronger, doesn’t it make it harder to save the next world? I mean, we’re still figuring this out." _

_ "We’re still figuring this out but, Magnus, you’re telling me—you, Magnus, are telling me that it makes sense to kill this entire world just so that our enemy doesn’t get stronger. That’s what you, Magnus, are telling me." _

_ "If we don’t—w—we’re not protecting future w—this is hard, Lup! I’m not saying it’s an easy choice.” _

_ “We don’t know what happens to the worlds consumed by the Hunger. They could still be alive in there! We could save them. This - this is the point where we get to decide who we are. I refuse to let us be - the type of people who could destroy an entire world for any reason. This - this isn’t us! This can’t be how we do this!" _

\---

"You guys go ahead, I'll... I'll send the update, be right behind you." Lup sits at the foot of the massive crystal, next to the sleeping robot form of Troth. They've known there are worlds they won't save.  _ People _ they can't save. But this is different. This feels like giving up, and Lup can't wrap her head around it. So instead she reaches out. 

_ "Barry? We're heading back. We found it." _ She sighs, unsure how to begin to describe it. " _ It's... beautiful? It's the people. Their souls, how they exist between bodies, it's... too dangerous to leave here." _

That's it, isn't it. These people have done something so incredible for themselves, and that will be their downfall. No, it'll be a casualty of their  _ stupid fate _ , and it's not fair! They don't deserve any of this. And there's just. Not a better option than to take it from this place, from the Hunger, and hope they'll survive.

“The people are  _ in _ the crystal? Like the other crystals for information, but souls? That’s incredible, and you’re bringing it back?”

Barry’s mind tries to wrap around this. The survivors won’t have a home left, but they could resettle. What if they could replicate it, and resettle everyone they couldn’t save? That’s a non-starter, probably, too many refugees, not enough planes, unless some are uninhabited or lightly populated, which some have been. Would the souls even make the jump or would there just be an empty crystal next plane? So far they haven’t been able to take higher life forms with them, just lower ones.

For sure they shouldn’t just be left for the Hunger, though, if there’s any chance at all. Always take the chance of success over certain failure. Always choose hope.

_ “Maybe. Can we... I need to catch up with the crew. Can we talk? When we get back? I'll catch you up.” _

If only it were as simple as just  _ bringing it back _ . Like that doesn't run the risk of eliminating an entire civilisation when they reset. As if they wouldn't be ripping people from their homes. Would they be any different from the Hunger, at that point?

“Yeah, of course, soon as you’re back, I’m all yours. Be safe, see you soon.”

She sounded rattled, something, like there’s a piece she hasn’t told him yet. About the crystal? Maybe it was more complex than he thought, needed to stay in place to work or something.

Barry tucks his journal away next to his bed and stows his blanket. He’s got a solid start here. Time to meet the returning crew on his own two feet, better than they left him, ideally. That’s always been the metric, leave it better than you found it. Another thing drilled into his head early by his mother. This time he’s making a slightly better Barry, he hopes, decluttering his mind rather than a room. It’ll be worth it.

\--

Despite being the last person to surface from Underton, frustration sets a fast pace once Lup is topside. Her hair isn't even fully dried when she returns to the ship, and heads immediately for her room. Twelve hours. They have twelve hours until the robot-folk make their decision. 

Gods, she's not going to sleep at all tonight.

Lup had said she wants to talk and catch him up. So once the crew gets back, after a bit of time for them to get cleaned up, Barry arrives at her door. He’s feeling so much better now, he thinks he can even be fully present, a novelty he hasn’t felt in a while now. As the door slides open, though, it only takes one look to know that Lup’s more than a little rattled.

“Lup? I’m here, what’s wrong?”

Lup waves him in from her spot on the bed. Well.  _ On _ is generous. She's got her head hanging off one side, toes poking off the other. A mug of tea sits forgotten on a nightstand, and the look in Lup's eyes tells Barry her mind is anywhere but here. 

Her eyes close, and gods how she wishes what she has to say next wasn't true. 

"They wanted to... just  _ destroy _ it. The whole thing. With people-- whole-ass people in it. That's... we can't-- That's  _ murder _ , right? That's... If that's us, then we're no better than the Hunger." Lup drags her hands over her face, "If this is all just some stupid  _ power grab? _ And not about saving people anymore? What's the damn point?" She doesn't look at him, she  _ can't _ . Her mind’s running all kinds of directions, and every single one of them ends up in the same place. A knee-high robot, in the grass beneath the ship. Laughing.

Barry can’t believe what he’s hearing at first.  Oh, no, that’s not—that absolutely  _ is _ murder, that can’t be the solution. Lup’s absolutely right. These people—they’re  _ people _ , just like the crew—they deserve better than being destroyed; the crew may not be able to stop the Hunger but they for damn sure can stop themselves.

“That’s—gods, Lup, that can’t be who we are, you’re right, we have to try  _ something _ . Want a hug? Or I can just listen, whatever you need, promise I’m here,” Barry says.

Does she want a hug? Gods, absolutely. But just thinking about moving, even an inch, it's too much. Twelve hours. Ten, actually. She can feel that timer rattling her bones and she  _ hates _ it, but at this point it's only that uncertainty that she can trust. For ten hours, at least, they'll be okay. For ten hours, she doesn't have to protect anyone from her family. 

"Just... Just talk, I think. Just..." Lup closes her eyes, and y'know what? Maybe she will cry. Maybe that's fine. "Tell me I'm not fighting for nothing?"

Barry’s heart feels heavy to see that look on her face.  “You’re not. You’re not fighting for nothing, I swear it. I wish I’d been there to back you up. I—okay, think of it like Dav. When we saw the Hunger the first time, he made a snap decision: go back there and all of us die or fly away and maybe we live. He had to try, right? He had to take a chance and gamble on the hope that we might make it rather than just plunge us all to certain death. And we lived. We can’t just doom these people one hundred percent if there’s even the slightest chance they could survive, especially not with us directly at fault. I’m so sorry, this is shitty and it sucks but I’ll stay with you--whatever you need for now, I promise. We can both do our best to protect them.” Barry’s not sure his words will do her much good, but they’re what she asked for, so he’ll give them to her, more if he can manage it.

"We can." She's quiet, for a long moment. Several unsteady breaths hang between them, between her and Barry's words. 

"Promise?" She turns to him now, lips pressed a tight line. She offers a hand, pinky outstretched. "You promise me, we try. No matter what, we won't be like that. We won't let each other get to that place. Pinky swear."

"I promise, we'll never let each get to that place. Not ever," Barry says. He links his pinky with hers, stamps their thumbs just like they've done before. He hopes he never has to do much to keep this promise. He hopes they'll never need to consider this again. He hopes neither of them need to...intervene. But he will, or she will, if they need to, and that's ironclad. 

He smiles at her encouragingly. "Feels like I just gave you more authorization to kick my ass as needed, I'm really always doing that, huh? I'll just have to watch my step," he says, hoping she'll smile, or feel a little better somehow.

That makes Lup crack a smile, fingers still locked with his. He can always seem to do that, huh? Crack a joke when she needs it. Be a bit of rock when she needs that. And if they're both a bit unsteady... well they can just be unsteady together. 

"I'm starting to think you want that ass-kicking. Don't force my hand." She smiles. She doesn't let go.

Barry snorts a little laugh. "What, me? Bait you into kicking my ass purely for attention? I'd  _ never _ ," he protests, completely unconvincingly. "Imagine wanting such a thing, hmmm,  _ hmmmmm _ ." He makes an exaggerated thoughtful face. Their pinkies are still locked between them, still solid, anchoring them to each other. What else is there to anchor to? Barry wonders. Nothing else  _ lasts _ , that's what's making this so fucking  _ hard _ .

Lup laughs, and for the first time she's not thinking about the twelve  nine  hours until uncertainty. She could kiss him, for taking that weight off her chest for even a second. 

Except. She can't. 

But in theory. Or metaphor. Or. Whatever. It's just gratitude, she's  _ grateful _ , that's  _ all _ . It's fine. 

Daylight has started to fade outside the window, the strongest of the stars poking through hazy purples and oranges. Each of those is a sun, maybe, of some far off world. Are they meant to save them all? Or at least, bear witness to their ends?

"I'm exhausted, Bear." She doesn't mean it in the physical way, and she knows he understands. They all feel it. Two decades nearly, and no end in sight. Something has separated them from time and planes but in the end they're still  _ people _ . It still adds up.

She's exhausted. Of course she is. Barry gets it. With the day ~~year~~ ~~seventeen years~~ she's had, she'd be valid to never _stop_ being exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that sits in every muscle and weighs a person down 'til it seems impossible to get up. But she still does get up, every damn time.

This time, though, before she gets up, she can and should rest and just...recharge a little. He can...if she wants, he can help. "I know. Want to rest, maybe? I could let you be or...I could stay close, if you want some company. You know, sometimes it helps to have someone there," he says. He hopes she can fill the gaps in in a way that makes all of this sound like a friend offering to comfort a friend a normal amount in a not-weird way, and not like a selfish ploy for affection or worse, like him unfairly pressing an emotional advantage and planning to cash in later. They're friends; he's ready to act like it now.

Lup rubs at her eyes, dragging out a sigh that feels like it takes all the air out of her. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." She doesn't get up, just lifts herself up until she can set her head in his lap. There's not enough anxiety left to worry if it's awkward, or too much. All of that's run its course and settled like sediment in her veins. 

~~_ Eleven, ten, nine, eight... _ ~~

"You can stay. Please."

As Lup settles her head in his lap, Barry's hand immediately goes to her hair, smoothing it back, trying to help her relax and calm. He doesn't really think about it, probably wouldn't have done it if he had.

He would've done it before. Before dying, but even before the fake marriage and everything else. "This okay?" he asks, giving her hair another soothing stroke.

Lup nods, eyes screwed shut against the word. Nothing to see, hardly anything to hear-- she just focuses on that feeling, Barry's steady hand through her hair. It's so natural, to just be like this. Sitting and talking and  _ feeling _ shitty, stupid feelings about the end of the world and the next and the next, and listening. And having someone listen back. 

"Do you think this is it? Y'think we have a chance to... I dunno, break outta this? Get it right?"

Barry keeps up a slow, steady rhythm as he ponders her question. "I think--this is morbid, maybe, but I think that's the only alternative that matters. I think we try for that chance and it might work out, or everything ends, for sure. I don't really like thinking about the second part, so," he shrugs. "Just gotta stay on the first part, I guess."

"You're right." Lup mumbles, a mix of heavy emotions and gentle brushing turning her voice soft. "That is morbid," she smiles, almost a laugh, "But yeah. Stay on the first part. We can do that." 

They can. They  _ have to _ . To keep doing what they do. If they're gonna have to keep going, there's gotta be something to go  _ for _ . And maybe that's what the first part is. It's Davenport taking a chance on survival. It's fixing a broken robot on a doomed planet. 

It's hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: That's progress, folks! That's growth!  
> SA: It's the care for everyone but themselves for me... 😗👉👈


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people??? Build pillow forts??? To cope???????????

The hours pass, and the decision is reached. The crew assembles in the cockpit, with the crystal containing the souls that have chosen to go. Time’s running out.

Not really, though. Time’s running out for this plane, but there will be others. There’s another chance. Barry knows the crew will make it out of the storm yet again. That is, quite stubbornly, the only possibility he’ll entertain.

He looks over at Lup. He’d comforted her as long as she needed, but the strain of an emotional burden like that doesn’t just go away with a pat on the head. It just...doesn’t. He wishes it could. He gives her an encouraging smile.

Lup gives him a tired smile back. To whatever end, they'd come to a decision. Now just. To figure out if it was the right one. 

The crew are dismissed, nothing to do now but to enjoy this world while they could and wait for the coming storm. Taako already has eyes set on some last-minute looting, but when Lup refuses for the third time, he huffs and goes to pester Lucretia into joining him. 

\--

Well before the colours fade, Lup feels herself drawn to her Recorded State-- leaning heavy over the deck's railing with a familiar ache in her bones that she can't place, bombarding herself with questions she knows she can't answer. It'd be so much easier to leave if she could.

That's where Barry finds her, right where he expects her to be: at the beginning, but staring down the end. 

She's told him about the disagreement down below. He knows about the decision. He knows how terrible it feels to know that their own crewmates could get it so wrong, and be so very close to destroying--

You know what, fuck it, he doesn't. He doesn't truly know what it feels like to hold them all back, to put his heart and body on the line and hold back darkness and destruction from overwhelming innocent people. He has no idea what that feels like, the sense of betrayal, that someone you trusted to make the right decision suddenly thinks an entire plane's worth of people, adults and children should be slaughtered. He doesn't know what you do when the only good decisions are the result of work and struggle and the instant that stops, the second you give in, the world ends.

Okay, so he doesn't know exactly, but maybe he's got a pretty good guess how that might feel.

He walks over and stands next to her. "Hey," he says gently, nudging her arm lightly, "want some company?"

 _Maybe if we seal it away here, how do we know the Hunger will even go for it, they've survived an apocalypse before, what if there's a better way..._

She doesn't even realise how late it's gotten until Barry nudges her train of thought from its tracks. There's still light, but it's fading. _One of these days it won't come back_. 

Lup nods, sighs. "Yeah, okay."

Barry leans against the railing too. Concern shows on his face. "You doing alright? You're standing still and being quiet; who are you and what have you done with Lup?" he teases lightly. He bumps her elbow with his. She smiles and bumps him back. 

"For real, though, if you need to talk some shit out or anything, I'm here. I'm, uh, today's real stable, so I'm good to listen," he says.

"Just thinkin'." It's not a lie. It's not the whole truth, though, obviously. But how do you say the whole truth when it's confusing and awful and stupid and she doesn't even _know_ what she needs?

Lup shakes her head. Well. She can start by taking her own advice. 

"I dunno." Gods, words are hard, huh. "I don't know. Maybe it's just... bullshit survivor's guilt, or somethin'. It just feels like we're making all these decisions for _all_ these people. And that's not our job? Like not in a lazy way, like, in a ‘we're making life-altering decisions and it's not fair to the people that get caught in the fallout’ kinda way. And there's just. No right answer. No. No, there _is_ a right answer, there's just... no damn way for us to know what it _is_." 

She lets her head fall to her hands, sits there for a second. "I'm sorry." Even if she knows she'd listen to him the same way. There's almost a laugh there when she props her chin up on her hands to look at him. "Just. Thinkin'."

Barry nods, slowly. It's big, all of what Lup's said is big and scary and beyond them. It's not fair. She's damn right it's not fair.

"You don't have to be sorry; this whole thing's completely fucked, and I'm glad you're around to say so," Barry says. "It's kinda...like I'm glad the folks here made their choice? But it's bullshit that they were forced into it, and it's bullshit that we're caught in the middle. But at least we're trying to save as many as will let us."

She snorts. "You know me, always... here to call bullshit." He's right, and she knows it, deep down. It might not be at the surface yet, not quite a logic she can connect right now, but talking about it starts to stir that muddy water. 

Barry pauses. "I'm not always sure what we can do, or what the right choice is, but...can I tell you? This feels like the opposite of what it felt like in the Hunger."

That last bit has her smiling, tired but hopeful. She sets her head against his shoulder. "Good. That's... yeah. That's good."

Barry accepts the comfortable weight, and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Feels like at least a step in the right direction, even if we can’t get it exactly perfect.”

She looks worn through. It’s not fair. “Any way I can help? Can’t fix it, exactly, but maybe go splitsies on dealing with it? Or just...relax? Pillow fort and junk food, whatever helps?”

His voice is a familiar rumble against her cheek, and she's exhausted enough that she could very well let that carry her to sleep. But, perhaps the deck isn't the _ideal_ place for that. 

Instead, she nods, leaning into the weight of his arm around her. "Yeah, okay. Cinnamon toasts? With the good shitty bread?" She chuckles, not quite wanting to move, but knowing she'll have to.

He laughs. "That sounds perfect, you know I'll always be down to make cinnamon toast."

He turns his head toward her and _freezes_. He very nearly kissed her hair just there. Well, no more of that. She's his friend, not his wife. Not his girlfriend, not his partner. Maybe his partner, but in a work way. A good friend way.

Alright, stop it. Loving her means prioritizing getting her some cinnamon toast so she can be happy, not getting lost in the weeds over labels.

"Better help me find the bread, I know Taako hasn't found it or we'd've heard all about it, and I wouldn't dream of finding your sacred bread hiding spot," he says as they head toward the kitchen.

Lup laughs, picking herself up from the railing and following him inside. "That's a secret I'll never tell, Barold."

The kettle whistles as Lup climbs up into the cabinetry to find her Fluffy Bread™️ ~~an airtight tin inside a _pocket dimension_ inside _two more tins_ in the back of the cabinet above the stove ~~. She doesn't climb down properly, not even after teas have been made and bread has been cut. She just turns the pan handle towards her on the counter and flips the sweet-awful monstrosities from her place there. 

She remembers someone telling them once-- the twins-- that they reminded one of a set of gargoyles. Always perched on something. Maybe they were right. She'll never get to tell them, though. 

Lup flips another toast.

Barry leans against the counter, watching Lup make toast from her countertop vantage point. She's just so dang cute.

Of course she's more than cute. She could never be condensed down to _cute_ alone. She's strong, maybe the strongest of them all. She's unfathomably powerful. She's sharp as a tack, never slows down. She cares so deep it hurts and exhausts her, like tonight. And with all that, she's still got that cute nose and freckles and soft hair, and she still sits on counters and cooks up tasty food and smells good.

Barry reaches up into the cupboard for plates. "That smells _so_ good," he says with an appreciative sniff.

"It's the un _holy_ amount of butter, and you know it." She smiles, flipping a toast expertly onto the plate in his hand. "If most of it wasn't being cooked off, I literally would not allow you to eat this." 

Lup makes grabby-hands for her tea (the official TSSL sign for _gimmie_ , totally) while the last few slices toast up under her careful watch. "How've you been doing? Just 'cause I'm all..." _vague hand gesture_ "y'know. Doesn't mean you can't be." Hopefully he's not, though. She already feels guilty enough ~~taking her own advice~~ making him shoulder this with her, she'd feel worse if he was having a particularly rough time already.

Barry passes her her tea. "I'm doing...better. Some at least. I, uh...while you guys were gone I got a notebook and some tea and kinda...went at it, a little, that kinda helped. Helped to kinda sit with it but still put it somewhere...else," he says, as though that makes a lick of sense or contains any proper verbs. "Kinda lucky, though, cause then once you all got back I was all sorta rested up, you know?"

"That's good. Hey? That's like. Real fuckin' productive? Hell yeah." She flips the last slices onto the plate and flicks off the burner. Dishes... ehh, that's what Prestidigitation's for, right? Especially today. 

"Felt good, I'm glad I did it. Sucked a little in spots though." He makes a face. 

"That's why it helps though, gotta get the suck _out_." She says it, then snorts. Certainly a... choice phrase there, Lu. She hides her embarrassment with a sip of tea, fogging up her glasses enough for just a second to blush in private. 

"You too rested for that pillow fort? I realise you may have been joking, but now the idea's in my head, and..." She drops off the counter, "I cannot be held accountable for my actions if left unsupervised with that many blankets." The smell of cinnamon and spicy tea is starting to clear her mind, and something cozy might just be what they both need.

Barry smiles again. "Oh, just try and stop me from a pillow fort, that's maximum coze right there," Barry says with a chuckle. "Let's do it! Where do we want this architectural wonder?"

"Hmm... If we try to do that with the couch, Magnus is gonna want in, then _everyone's_ gonna want in, and like..." Lup stares a hole in her mug, feeling more than a little guilty about what she's saying. Her voice goes quiet, "I love 'em, but... I think I need a break? From everyone? I have plenty of pillows in mine?"

Barry quirks a smile at her words, but his face softens as she continues. "Yours it is. Nothing wrong with a little break, little space sometimes," he agrees.

She's valid to want that, not privacy, apparently, or total solitude, since she's inviting Barry along. Just wanting not to have someone she's fought with right in her face. That's easy to understand. He walks along with her back to her room.

She nods slowly, then a bit more confident. "Yeah. Thanks." He gets it then, that she's not coming from some malicious place. Of course he understands. Why does he have to get her so well?

Lup's room in the days before take-off is always pristine. Growing up with only those things they could carry to their name has made her protective of what she's got now, and with how rocky and unpredictable the end tends to be... she's learned to pack up well in advance. Especially the things she can't replace, or from folks long gone. 

The days are ticking down now, and Lup's room is a mess. Not dirty, just the organised chaos the twins always seem to live in. Mostly blankets kicked off the bed, some stray clothing on The Laundry Chair™️, that ever-cluttered desk. She'll get around to it. Probably. 

She closes up the book on the nightstand, making room for tea and toasts while they build. "Let me uhh... let me clear off that chair, gotta have that firm foundation. You feeling a floor-based fort, or using the bed to its full abilities?"

Barry tries not to absolutely just _choke_ . _Full abilities_ , gods, if _only_ , but. She has an extremely valid point vis-a-vis pillow fort architecture though, huh?

“If we’re about maximum coze here, bed's probably ideal, also it’s level, which is good. Really the only downside is bed crumbs, but laundry’s a thing, so that’s easy to handle if you’re game,” he answers, setting down tea and toast to get started on good ol’ fort building.

Lup sucks in a breath. "Oooh, _bed crumbs_. But you're right. Laundry can be done. Coze cannot be artificially recreated. Not at the level we're working with." She smiles, and gets to work pulling the desk chair over to a reasonable place. Spare sheets are pulled for structure, fluffy blankets for interior comfort, and once the bed is mostly stripped, there's a pretty solid base. 

But then Lup emerges from her closet with a hammer and a couple of nails between her lips and climbs up onto a bedpost. _"Pass me the blue sheet? Flat, not fitted._ " She signs, scoping out the ceiling for optimum anchor points.

Holy shit, she’s up there, huh? Barry grins and passes up the sheet. “Love where you’re going with this, but do _not_ make me catch you. I _will_ , but I’ll give you a Look, also,” he jokes.

She laughs, almost losing a nail, and crosses her heart before taking the sheet. She's careful, of course, just to wiggle the nail between the threads and not just go poking holes in perfectly good sheets, and makes quick and quiet work of sticking up the sheet. With the help of a Silence charm.

In true flip-wizard fashion, she jumps straight to the next bedpost, making a show of jokingly teetering before righting herself and snorting. _"I'm not falling, promise. But if you tell Cap'n I put holes in the ceiling..."_ she points an accusing hammer. _"I cannot be held liable for the consequences._ "

“My lips are sealed,” Barry says, crossing his heart too. “I’m an accomplice, you know, the instigator, even, I’m not saying a word.”

It’s good to hear her laugh, there’s been far too little of that the past couple days—the past year, really. He’d do a lot to make her laugh, but it’s not even really taking much this time.

"Exactly," she says, driving the last nail in. "You're no more innocent than me. _Less_ even, if ya think about it." 

She hops down from her perch, the mattress creaking under the sudden weight. This is. Good. It's fun, and easy, and the kind of temporary that'll leave a mark after it's gone. A soft kind of permanent. She pulls a piece of toast from the plate, crumbs be damned. "Lookin' good, chief. I'm thinkin' pull the chair over here, get this table in on the deal for the all important holding-of bevvies? Cha'feel?"

“If we don’t have a table for bevvies what are we even doing?” Barry smiles. He pulls the chair into position, then nudges a pillow slightly for maximum stability. “How’s this?”

"Hell yeah, now we're cookin' with magic!" She flops down, dusting her face in cinnamon-sugar freckles and not giving a single damn about it. 

Maybe it isn't perfect, all holes in the ceiling and crumbs in her bed. But it's happy. Doesn't take that weird sting of almost-betrayal away, but it sure gives her a comfy place to deal with it. 

"Thank you? I mean it. This is... dumb, and exactly what I need. Thank you." She tucks her glasses on the table, far from further confectionary dusting. "Now get your butt in here and enjoy it! Before I eat all this ding-dang toast." Her nose scrunches in a well-earned laugh. Yeah, this is pretty okay.

Barry crawls in beside her and grabs a piece of toast. He sets his glasses beside hers--good call, really--and wriggles into a comfortable position. "You're so welcome, quick fun fact: at any given moment I'm about twelve seconds from ready to build a pillow fort, so I'm really fucking stoked here," he answers. "Seriously, though, if it helps? I'm glad we're doing it." He takes a bite of his toast. " _Gods_ you do this so good," he says, looking maybe just a smidge too into it, even for cinnamon toast.

Lup snorts, knocking her toast into his in a messy cheers. "That's what they tell me." She waggles a brow, hoping that any of that is okay. He totally set that one up though, right? 

Right?

She regrets it immediately. 

"So what's the uhh... the pillow fort prerogative? We uhh, got the junk food, nailed that one. I don't know that I peg you for the spooky story type... What's that leave, painting our nails and talking about boys?" _Gods, that's not any better, huh. Dammit Lup._

Barry laughs. "We kinda live in a spooky story, and really? We're running low on boys, not gonna lie, unless you want me to dig way back. Fair warning, I dated mostly doofuses," he confides with an eye roll.

She teased him, in a way that makes him think she might just be coming back to herself a little. That's good, that's progress. "If you've got nail polish I'm into it, if you need your hair braided, you _know_ I can handle that. If you want funny or soft we can talk funny or soft, or hey, even if you just need to bitch? That's fine, get it out of there, you know? Pillow fort time can be whatever we want it to be," he says.

"Oh my gods, haven't we _all_ ." She snorts. Okay. Alright. This could work. _Dammit Barry, you're too good._

"I mean, hell yeah, all of the above. Name your colour. And if you say blue, I swear to RQ..." She eyes over her room looking for her pouch of nail-stuff, and flicks a Mage Hand over to snatch it up. "You _always_ go blue. Though I guess this is a Comfort Zone kinda night." She digs out a lavender for herself, and passes the bag over. "I'm deffo taking you up on that braid business, tho."

"Blue's nice! Makes you feel good to look at it," Barry chuckles. He rifles through the bag, coming up with a sparkly gold polish. "Oh, it's pillow fort time, just fuck me up, get wild, let's do the thing," he teases. "I'll do your braid first though, just...practical, you know."

"It's a good colour, but where's the _variety!_ The spice!" Lup laughs, snatching the bottle from him and gasping when she sees glitter. " _Barry!_ You rogue!" 

She shakes the bottle, contemplating. "Okay, truetruetrue. _Unless..._ we're pullin' a whole-ass mani-pedi sitch! In which case..." She plants herself in front of him, patting either side of her. "Multitasking. You said fuck you up, did you not? Yes, no, maybe? Brush is in the drawer there?" She looks back, all toothy confidence, knowing she's won this round. Whatever that means.

Barry grins back and pulls his feet to the spots she's patted. He leans over and pulls the brush from the drawer. "Your wish is, as ever, my command," he answers. 

He pulls her hair around to the back of her and starts to brush it out, ends first, one section at a time, gentle. Her hair's soft; if he's honest he always felt like he might be getting more out of braiding her hair at night than she did when he did it more often last cycle. She got to sleep comfortably, and he got the soothing sensation of the strands slipping through his fingers and the _snnnk snnnk_ sound of the brush. It always made him settle a little.

Lup gets right to work, all thin, even coats of glitter. She's got to sit at a bit of an angle to make it happen, which prompts her to suggest a pair of plaits. "Y'know, just. Logistically. Feel like that'll make your job easier, right?" Totally not because she loves the feeling, definitely not because it's Barry or anything. 

Gods, she's fucked, huh.

"Two it is, that could be easier, you're right," Barry agrees.

Two? Hell yes, that's twice the braiding and twice the doting. Barry does love to dote. On Lup, specifically, but in general he's absolutely built for it. He carefully parts her hair, resolving to stick with his original plan and braid it all the way from the hairline, just in two now. "My toes have never looked so good," he observes good humoredly. At least he's not the one with ticklish feet. He'll just be careful with hers, he thinks with a smile.

She grins, blowing on them to dry, as if it _really_ helps all that much. Anything to keep nail polish off her sheets. "I dare say, it's my best work yet." She works on a second coat until she feels the weight of a solid braid on her back. They make a nice team. In another world...

No. Stop that. That's not _fair_ . Not to her, not to Barry, nobody. And tonight is for soft and funny, not traumatic and bullshit. Just. _Don't_. 

"I uhh, I think that's good, mmm? Deffo not dry though, be careful." She turns around, careful to keep her annoyance with her own thoughts from her voice.

Barry looks them over approvingly as he finishes up the tail end of the second braid. “Ooh, very sparkly. Festive, kinda, maybe just celebrating being alive or something, huh? I gotta do more of that.”

He wraps the end of the braid with a tie. “Look at that, that’s a very good look on you. Comfy?” he asks.

Lup gives her head a shake, and nods, satisfied. "Perfect, thank you." Not a style she goes for often, but maybe she'll throw it back into her rotation. Especially if it suits her as much as he says. 

She scoots around, careful not to bump Barry's fresh polish, and hands him the bottle of lilac. "Y'know, Taako's started giving me _so much shit_ now, for making him do this. Shouldn't have given him a year off, he's gettin' _lazy_ ," she laughs.

Barry shakes the bottle with a chuckle. “If he doesn’t watch out I’ll take his job, remember how put out he was at first? He’s kinda fun to wind up; love the guy, but I’m just saying. Foot please,” he said, opening the bottle. “I’ll try not to tickle.”

"Honestly! I think that'd piss him off more. I'm in." She laughs, "I wouldn't be a good sister if I didn't push his buttons from time to time, right? That's like. Right in the job description. One, beat up shitty ex boyfriends, two, pester the shit out of him. That's day one." 

Lup snags a pillow and settles back, extending a foot to Barry. They're not pretty, something she might have been embarrassed by a decade or so ago. After years on her toes figuratively and then later literally, well, they've seen better days. But Barry's already seen nearly every scar she has, and plenty she'd lost at the year’s end. This is nothing new.

Barry leans in, squinting a little. He’s already taken off his glasses, and the pinky toenail is just so damn _tiny_. He carefully begins to paint her nails. “That’s for sure! Sometimes wish I had siblings, might’ve been fun,” he says wistfully.

"Pain in the ass, more like it. But yeah, it's alright. I'm just glad that, y'know. That we did this together? He's a bastard, but... Don't know what I'd do without him, y'know?" Even when they don't see eye to eye. When humanity is _her_ job. Self-preservation's always been his anyway. 

"Hey! You painting the whole dang foot over there? Careful," she laughs, pulling back from the feeling of cold polish on skin.

“Sorry,” Barry chuckles. He grabs a tissue from the nightstand and folds it up into a tiny corner, cleaning up the spot, then smoothes over the polish. “I’m glad you both came, too, even though that does mean you can gang up on me at will.” He pulls a goofy face, then carefully moves on to another nail, thankfully slightly larger.

"We didn't come to play fair, sorry bud." She snorts, trying her best to be a good canvas and _remain still_ . Barry, to his credit, is trying his best. But sometimes a delicate hand is _too damn delicate_. She presses her lips in a tight line and does her best not to laugh and pull away. 

"Bit of a-- _snrk_ \-- pain in the ass when we don't-- _ffff_ \-- when he wants to go all Kujo but--" Lup gives, tugging her foot away with a laugh. "Sorry, sorry, okay." She takes a dramatic breath that just dissolves into laughter.

Barry laughs too. “I _knew_ it, okay, okay, is it too _light?_ Like do you wanna prop it up here or want me to brace it maybe?” he chuckles. “Your feet, your rules.”

She snorts, "My feet my... I don't _know_ . Just... Just like _do it_ , fuckin'... hold it like you mean it!" Lup falls back into laughter; maybe not the best way to talk about a foot, but here they are. "You're not gonna _hurt_ me, like. Are you _afraid of a little feet,_ Barold?" She wiggles her toes, as menacingly as one can.

Afraid of her feet? Never. Afraid of crossing a line and making her feel unsafe? Usually, basically always.

Welp, this ain’t that.

Barry crisscrosses his legs, catches her ankle in his left hand and settles her foot with the heel comfortably wedged into basically the back of his knee, with his calf and thigh cradling it. “Got it,” he says with a mischievous look on his face. He sets his left hand down over the top of her foot and picks the brush back up. “Ready for me?”

Oh. Well, he certainly seems like he means it. Lup bites back a laugh, fixing him with a faux saucy stare. Well. Faux enough. "Go get 'em, tiger." 

She still laughs, that can't be helped. But it's definitely better, enough that she doesn't have to pull away. That damn grin though... that's gonna be stuck in her head.

Barry carefully paints the next nail, this time a little easier. “Good, good, that’s a lot steadier,” he says.

Her giggles are doing something to him, but not as much as that look she gave him. Did she...oh, come on now, surely not, that’s ridiculous.

But maybe?

But not.

But maybe she just a little bit in a totally platonic way liked him to hold her foot in place and then paint her toenails all pretty. It certainly was a pretty color.

Gods, is it doing a thing to him, though, and does he ever need to ignore that straight to hell. He will, he will, maybe just put it in a feelings box until convenient.

"You're _welcome_." She chuckles, toying with the end of one braid. 

_Ready for me?_ Come _on_ , that's just not fair. You can't just. _Say that_ to a girl. Not like _that_. 

Except of course you can, when you're close good friends and comfortably joking and chilling and it's _fine_ , it's _nothing_ , it's

So, incredibly, fucking _terribly_ , not nothing. Gods dammit. 

"So uhh... We're definitely like. Adding to our collection of otherworldly films before we go, yeah?" Read: Yelling at the goose-baby-man together was the most fun I've had since you died and I'm definitely gonna need that again, but a girl can only watch Palodius Blart: Market Cop so many times.

“Gods, I hope so. Love to watch a movie in between work and narrowly escaping with our lives, it really balances things,” Barry chuckles, painting a wide stripe down the middle of Lup’s big toenail. “Hmmm, maybe we should watch one soon, too, have to look through ‘em, huh?”

She’s trying so hard to keep her foot steady, and it’s a lot easier on the bigger toes. This whole thing is easy. That’s a hell of a thing, really. Even though it feels complex and weird and awkward at bottom it’s just easy to be near Lup and relax with her, shit, he even sleeps better near her.

It should be easy. That’s what every old couple Barry’s ever known has told him some variant of, that your relationship should be one where you can relax and be who you are. It may take work, they’d say, but it shouldn’t be shitty and grueling. It should be easy to imagine yourself staying, and being, and loving.

This is all not-for-now thinking. Barry can’t drag her into the hellhole his brain still is, not before he’s cleaned up some of the mess in there.

But it would be easy.

Turns out, a little forced softness is just what a girl needs to catch a train of run away worries. Nails dry, tea and toast is had, and still Lup doesn't want to leave this constructed safety. 

So they don't. Apart from a brief moment, to knock quietly on Lucretia's door to borrow a film. 

She assures Lup that she doesn't have anything spooky, not in the way she'd want, but Lup just shakes her head and asks for the last documentary she'd seen. It's off-brand, totally, but tonight Lup needs a reminder of what it is they're fighting for. 

"You don't have to stay," she says, sliding the projector into place under the blanket-fort. "But, y'know. Always welcome to." As much as she wants him to stay, be that comforting weight beside her, she won't force that on him. Not after he's already done so much. "This one's uhh... Luce said post-plague industrial revolution? If that does anything for ya."

"Oooh, that does sound good though, remember there was that big exhibit at the museum? If you've got room for me I'm down to watch it with you," Barry says. Not because the pillow fort's comfortable, not because she's so warm and soft and firm in all the best ways, definitely not because this whole being-in-love-with-his-best-friend thing opens up some doorways he's not confident he can walk through but really wants to peek at. He'll stay because she's his friend and he's a scientist who's interested in how this world's technology developed. Totally. That's it.

He rustles a little, getting comfortable. Not going anywhere, just staying right here where it's safe and cozy and gods this whole place smells like her, nail polish aside.

"Course, always room for ya." And she means it, maybe more than she lets on. More than she should.

“Alrighty,” Barry says as the movie starts up. “I’ll stay as long as you'll have me, just give me the boot when you’re done for the night.”

The film's exactly what it says on the tin-- calm albeit monotonous voice, more or less giving a lecture over B-roll of ruins and museums and formulae. It's beautiful, absolutely incredible what this people has accomplished in the face of destruction. 

Lup sinks heavy against the pillows, and it's not even a thing when she leans her head against Barry's shoulder. She's tired, they all are, and this right here is safe. So maybe it's not so much a surprise when she starts to doze towards the end of the film.

The documentary would be easier to follow sitting up and focused, but Barry doesn’t mind. There won’t be a test. There’s no need for him to pick apart the finer details. He just needs to help remember this plane when it’s gone, to let it have meant something that this place was here, and filled with these people.

Lup settles in against his shoulder, and he shifts to let her cuddle close. Maybe she needs it. Maybe she even just wants it, and that’s okay and valid. He wants to cuddle, too, it’s hard out there. She averted mass murder, he dredged up a bunch of his darkness and started dealing with it, it’s been a rough couple of days. By the end of the film, her breaths are coming steady and soft, broken up by the occasional light snore. Barry’s eyes droop, then close. He’ll just...what was the thing his grandmother always said? “Check for holes in his eyelids”, he’ll do that right quick and then scooch her down gently and go to bed. That’ll work.

No, no, he’ll for sure fall asleep if he does that. He opens his eyes and carefully starts to slide his arm out from beneath Lup, trying hard not to wake her.

_Dreams are always a little strange for Lup. Maybe it has something to do with being built for a different kind of rest, or maybe it's just how dreams are sometimes. There's no overarching plot, no lucid flying or terrible monsters (not tonight, at least). What catches Lup when she falls asleep are soft swatches of memories, at the same time familiar and unrecognisable. Cobbled streets that could be from her home mingled with a mess of stars and wreckage that couldn't possibly be. Clearings and tiny friends and understanding, great glowing somethings in the distance, something sterile-turned-home-turned-sterile-again. And all of it, even the bad and uncomfortable, she wants to hold onto._

_And when she reaches out she can. It doesn't make sense, as dreams rarely do, that there's something so solid and warm and safe right here, but it doesn't need to. It's home, and she clings to it._

_Her dreams smell of lime and cinnamon and green grass, the one constant among all the changing swaths of colour, solid ground beneath her feet. And when that solid ground begins to shake under her, she holds on tighter._

As Barry tries to slip out from under Lup, she wraps around him tight, clinging so that he can't possibly extricate himself without waking her.

She doesn't deserve to be woken up just so that he can go back to his cold bed and fight sleep and leave her here by herself. It would be inconvenient, inconsiderate, an annoyance, worse even.

It would be everything Barry doesn't want to be.

_Also_

Also he doesn't wanna go sleep alone, and that might not matter as much as what he _should_ do, but it does seem to agree with it.

He said he'd stay as long as she'd have him, and she keeps not letting go. Barry's a man of his word, even at the end of world after world. He settles deeper into the pillows and draws her closer, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders and closing his eyes. "I'm here," he murmurs, sure she can't possibly hear him in her sleep this way, "it's okay, I'll stay. Sleep well, Lup."

_It's okay. The world stops falling apart, as if she can hold it together in her arms. As if she can care enough to bring back the ones she couldn't hold. So she promises, somewhere deep in her dreams, to never let go._

\---

Her alarm has the bed buzzing bright and early, and Lup fumbles around for the snooze. And finds... Barry? He's still there? She blinks awake, and sure enough-- the projector still sits beside her, a pair of empty mugs on a chair that's still holding up enough of their fort to let in just the barest hint of sunlight. 

He stayed. She must have fallen asleep during the film, and Barry stayed with her. That has a soft smile on her face, until she realises that maybe that wasn't entirely intentional. If she dozed off, what's to say he hadn't? And without the light of the movie and a little magic, waking up surrounded by the monotonous fabric on all sides is probably not the ideal, all considered. 

She wants to reach for her wand, pull some light into the space or even start taking it down, but he looks like he's sleeping pretty soundly, and she doesn't want to ruin that.

Barry feels rustling and blinks awake into a dim space _\--what is that, where is he, he needs light, he needs--_ and with a little whimpering moan, squeezes the pillow he holds tight against the surge of panic.

It's not a pillow.

It's Lup.

This isn't his bed, it's hers, the pillow fort they made. He remembers it all now, she snuggled up and fell asleep; he stayed. Hopefully that was okay. He loosens up so he doesn't squeeze the stuffing out of her. "Uh, sorry. Morning," he says sheepishly. "Sleep well?"

"Oof, hey, it's just me. Just Lup." She hugs back though, of course she does. Just in case it helps. 

"Mornin'." She straightens up, just enough to give him some space if he needs it, and snags her wand from the headboard. "I think so. Didn't realise I fell asleep. Sorry about that. You okay?" 

A flick of her wand has little twinkling stars lighting up the inside of the fort. Give their eyes time to adjust, and the rest of them. They can worry about taking the fort down later.

Barry relaxes. It’s okay. Lup’s here, and the little stars light up the inside of the fort softly. “I’m alright,” he says. “Just startled a little, didn’t mean to squish you. No need to be sorry, bed’s where you sleep, right? Long as...long as it’s okay with you that I just crashed here, I didn’t wanna wake you up by moving.”

"Yeah, s'all good. You know me, don't... mind company." They're safe. He's here, and okay, and she's okay, and they're _safe_. 

Then the alarms sound. 

Captain Davenport's voice comes over the intercom, backed by flashing light and a shrill ring that even Lup would have trouble sleeping through. "All hands on deck, folks-- Take-off within the hour. Over."

Shit. It's time. The Hunger's here.

Barry jumps, then swipes his glasses from the nightstand and puts them on. He quickly untangles himself and tumbles out of the bed. He'll need to dash over to his room and throw on some fresh clothes of the non-pillow fort slumber party variety, then they can take off and go--

Well. Somewhere. Who knows where, this time.

Somewhere together, anyhow.

"I'm glad," he says. "I always...I always sleep better. You know, with company. Meet you out there? I gotta get dressed."

Lup takes a breath, then pulls herself from the blankets. "See ya there, champ."

She looks her room over, still a bit of a mess, in no way ready for takeoff. So much for stowing later; later's already caught up to them. As it always does. 

Focus. Go time. 

Lup whips up a Mage Hand, packing up the most delicate or rattle-able things while she throws on some actual pants. The sheets can stay up, a little swaying won't hurt there. In no more than fifteen minutes, Lup's tying her boots and racing for the deck. It seems like most everyone is on the surface, met with a handful of familiar robots. 

She grabs her tommy gun, still locked up in the weaponry case, and heads down to see them off.

Barry's heart pounds as he pulls on a fresh pair of jeans. It's here, it's back, the Hunger's back for _him_ and he's gonna lose his _godsdamned shit_ , even if he tried not to show it until he was alone.

He can't do this, he has to be okay, they all need to get out of here. The crew needs him.

He needs himself. He's not sure what that means, but he needs to be able to count on himself to keep it together for the next few hours.

He takes a deep breath and pulls a shirt over his head, and before he knows it he's ready, clothes, shoes, robe, gone.

He walks down the gangplank to the little knot of crew and robots and makes the mistake of looking up.

Dark clouds are rolling in, closer and closer, leaching the color from the world below. They know. They're here. They want him back. It's they, really, so many people united in that great opalescent mass. He doesn't wanna go back, he doesn't, not even if...not even if he's the best of them. Not even if it's easier not to fight it. Not even if he can destroy things _so well_ and earn approval and they say he's one of their family.

Barry already has a family, thanks. He pushes forward to join them.

The crew begins to trickle off, back to the ship. Magnus stays down to the wire, as always, giving these people as much tactical advice as he can. It's not much, not against the Hunger, but it's what he can do. So he does. 

Lup pulls Troth aside, confirms that the crystal is safely secured on the ship. "Listen," she starts, but there's nothing left to say. I'm sorry doesn't cut it, not that it's even her apology to make. Good luck? They don't need luck. If they make this stand, if they _do_ this, it comes down to constitution. Survival. So instead, Lup holds out the tommy gun. "Light them. The fuck. _Up_."

And she turns back to the ship, wiping her eyes.

As the ship shudders into the air, everyone takes their places, knowing they'll be ripped back to their recorded states in a matter of minutes anyway. Taako turns his eyes down when Lup approaches, the subtle kind of apology that doesn't need words. She slips her hand in his, and it's forgiven. 

Her crew, her friends, her _family_ fall into place around her, leaving this plane to it's fate and taking hope with them. The only way to keep it alive. 

"Listen," she meets her brothers eyes, but this isn't Twin Talk. Her tone makes it no secret that this is for everyone.

"That stuff I was saying down there — that wasn’t just, that wasn’t just talk. I believe that, one of these times, we’re gonna get it right. And we’re gonna find a way to defeat the Hunger and… save everybody inside of it. I—" _Nope, no crying on the deck, not today._ She takes a breath, "I have to believe that, to keep doing what we do. Because I have to believe... that I’m gonna get… those fifteen dollars back from Greg _fucking_ Grimaldis..."

Taako snorts, and he's not the only one. Lup laughs too, and she catches Barry's eyes and smiles. They're all together in this. Even when they can't agree how, even if they fight-- They have each other. They _have_ to be together in this. She gives Barry a knowing look, a silent _thank-you_. "Seriously, though, it got— we got dark down there. I— I know this journey’s been hard, and it’s only going to get harder, but we can’t allow ourselves to— to get to that place again. To even think about destroying an entire world. We need to promise each other, right now, we— we won’t let one another get to that place. Never again."

As Lup meets his eyes, Barry knows. He can see her meaning plain as day, and she's right. They need to promise this to each other, that they'll always anchor each other, always pull each other out of the dark and back to health and reason and love. She did it for him.

If he can make it out of the Hunger, break the thrall and...well maybe he's not all the way back to health, but he's getting better, then they can hold out that hope for others, too. Maybe that's all they need.

One by one, the crew agrees. One by one, they stack their hands together. They promise, yes, yes, yes, and Barry knows they each mean it. They won't let this happen again, they'll forgive and move on, but never again.

Barry looks up from their hands and gives Lup a smile, just before he feels himself being pulled back to his recorded state. _I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: See now that's what happens if you engage your mental health in a compassionate way!  
> SA: It's called self-care, Lup! Practice what you preach!
> 
> Quick note: we’ll be taking a bit of time off for holidays. Stay safe, choose joy, and choose hope, and we’ll see y’all in the new year to begin a new cycle!


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new cycle, but this time without any apparent danger.
> 
> It's the beach year, y'all!

\--CYCLE 21--

The Starblaster comes down into what looks to be a world underwater. Scans and fly-overs confirm; the plane is completely uninhabited. It's uncertain whether beings used to exist here, or if this plane has always been this picturesque vacancy. 

Fortunately for the crew, the simplicity of the terrain and lack of local threat makes recovering the Light of Creation an easy task. The Hunger sends its scouts, but by then the Light has been squirrelled away aboard the ship. 

It doesn't take much to convince the crew to set up a more permanent-seeming base. They work together over the first weeks to plan and build a large, comfortable shelter on a clear stretch of beach. Merle takes it upon himself to get... crafty, for lack of a better word. 

After the first "shower cap", Lup takes up splitting firewood with Magnus.

Barry wouldn't mind staying here longer than a year, really. This place is different from the others so far, he reflects. For starters, they already have the Light, so no trouble there. No locals trying to kill them; really the biggest threat he can see is maybe going out too far in the water and not being able to swim back. Totally avoidable. Okay, there's also Magnus's jump scares, but that's less a threat and more an excuse for a bit of a friendly tussle on the soft sand.

Barry heads into the kitchen. "Morning, guys," he says cheerily. "Smells good in here, making me hungry."

"Mornin' Bee!" Lup smiles from over a pair of skillets. The bungalow smells of pepper and grilling fish, and a big serving bowl of rice sits waiting to be divvied up. "Mind setting the table? And have you seen Ko--" She's interrupted when the door swings open, and a sandy-footed Taako pulls a plank of driftwood through, roughly two-by-five and absolutely soaked. 

"'Sup, thugs? Smells great, Lulu, bee-are-bee," he calls, tracking damp sand through the room. 

"Taako, I--" Lup starts, but just ends up laughing. Whatever he's up to, he's having a good time. And honestly? They could all do with a little reckless fun.

“What—alright, he’ll do what he does I guess,” Barry laughs. He goes to grab a stack of plates, and starts to set them out on the table. “The big question is where’s Magnus, he could be waiting to jump out from anywhere.” He squeezes past Lup toward the utensil drawer, careful not to push her forward or invade her space too much. “Just gonna scoot pastcha and get the forks.”

Lup shifts her hips, giving Barry some space. "True.. but s'long as he's not tryna spook me while I cook..." As if on queue, Taako shrieks from another room-- apparently Magnus had found his target. Lup locks eyes with Barry, and snorts. They're all coping, now that they have a bit of time to. Some of it is honestly coping with the fact that they _have_ time. And safety. Twenty-some-odd-years is a long time to run and hide and fear, and it's still hard to fight the urge to jump at every surprise. Maybe that's why Mags had taken up his "impromptu training regimen" as he had. It feels more normal to be scared, and in a weird way, Lup gets it. It's cathartic. And probably not healthy. Doubtful, though, that any of this is. "Incoming," she says over her shoulder, making sure there's room for her before bringing the hot pans to the table. "Guys! Foods done!"

The crew troops in, gathering around the table. Barry settles into a chair amid the bustle. Gods, that smell has him hungry, ready to fill up. He loads up his plate. It's nice that they can eat together like this. They're all here, no one's missing this cycle. There's even time for fun and games in between hours spent studying the Light. He cracks a smile. "So Taako, I gotta know, _what_ are you up to with that big old board thing? I will die of curiosity if you don't tell me," he says.

Taako twists salt-damp hair up into a bun, shooting Magnus a dubious look. "Still workshoppin' it ay-tee-em, but I think I'm onto something. Picture this, in your mind-space, if you will-- snowboarding. But on. _Water_." He waves his hands with a flourish. 

Lup laughs, light-hearted. "Don't get in any trouble out there, but if you figure it out? You _know_ I'm getting out there with you, right?" 

"Ohh, fer-sher, fer-sher. Hear that, Mags?" He raises an eyebrow at Magnus, "We've got fancy wood boards to make, not _crew to freak out_."

"You gotta be ready, Taako," Magnus says, pointing his fork at the twin. Barry laughs. "You too, Barry, you gotta be _ready_ , I am _everywhere_." He gestures pointedly with the fork. 

Barry shakes his head, still chuckling. "You sure are, bud.” He turns back to Taako. “Here's my question though, about the water snowboarding, how are you gonna go downhill on the water? Or are you thinking of using a boat?"

"Waves, my dear Barold. It's all about the _waves._ " Taako leans back in his chair, rolling his hand in a mimicry of the word. "Gotta let 'em take ya for a ride, y'know? Trust the water. And like, balance. That too." 

Lup laughs, "Yeah, I deffo want in on this. Whatever can get you this fuckin' zen is worth a shot." She dodges a projectile slice of fruit, and sticks her tongue out in retort. Yeah, this year might be alright.

\--

The meal continues, full to bursting with laughter until they finish up and start to clear away the dishes. "What's the plan for you today? Work? Play? _Waves?_ " Barry asks Lup. He might hang out, grab a book and do a little beach reading unless something else appeals. Sometimes...you know, sometimes Lup's plans appeal, is the thing.

Lup shrugs and sets a stack of plates near the sink. "Dunno. Might go for a swim, maybe get some stuff done with the Light? So I guess all of the above?" She smiles, leaning up against the counter. "Why, want in? Or you already busy today?"

Barry wishes he could swim. That sounds unbelievably fun to do with Lup, maybe splashing each other? But he has options, it's okay. "So far I've thought of reading a little, if you want a lab partner to work on the Light though, I'm your man," he says. Maybe he could learn to swim. Maybe just watch the others and hope? What's he gonna do, drown? Psssh, no. It's fine. He'll figure it out.

She grins. "I can always use an assistant," she jokes. "But damn, I haven't... I haven't read for _fun_ in... too long. I might get in on that, honestly. You bring anything good?" Lup kicks herself mentally for not investing in more alien novels. Not _about_ aliens, but literally books from all of their extraterrestrial cycles. Luce definitely picked some up, maybe she could ask to raid her collection. Or Barry's. Both, probably. They've got time.

“I’ve got a handful from home, and a few more from some of the planes. There’s a bunch in there I haven’t had time to get to yet, I think one about zombies that only come after healthy people? I don’t know, the cover looked like Barry-bait,” he chuckles. “Wanna take a look?”

"Zombies? Ohh _hell yeah_?" She pushes off the counter with a wicked grin. "I've got a few from home, but that's honestly it? That's on me, should'a picked up more. You're welcome to pick through what I've got though, expand the communal bookshelf, y'know?"

“Yeah, absolutely,” Barry agrees enthusiastically. “It’s looking really nice out, too, we deserve a beach reading day, you know? Just kick back and relax a little.” 

There was a time when their books sat on the same shelf. Barry remembers it, and remembers the jarring feeling: waking up one morning and there they were, intermingled, and the next thing he knew his were pulled out, separated, and returned neatly to his room. He didn’t even remember it happening; of course he couldn’t. It hadn’t been him who’d had to sort them. He’d been gone. Two types of pain, two different horrors to face, and he’s not sure that either makes sense without experiencing it.

Now, though, it’s been a few years. Time has passed, and brought healing with it. His nightmares are further apart, and they’ve taken on a veneer of the unreal, living in his mind only rather than overtaking his whole body as well. It might be okay now, to lend Lup a book. To borrow one of hers, to keep going like that, to make it a bit of a jumble. Maybe that jumble would be good for Lup too, and not something to trip her up or hurt her. Maybe things could be more like they were before. That could be...that could be really something.

“Lead the way, show me what you’ve got,” he says with a grin.

"Only if I get to raid your bookshelf too." But she does lead the way, padding through to her room. Most of the space on her shelves are taken by odds and ends; a spare wand, a pair of glasses, everyday things interspersed with shiny little shells from the beach. There are a few books though, a couple novels tucked between textbooks and journals. They're all well-worn, but one seems much older than the rest, clearly from their home-world and well-loved even before the mission. 

"Knock yourself out." Lup kneels to the shelf with books on, trailing her hand over the spines. "This one's pretty good, s'like a serial killer that like, bases the murders off fairy-tales? Real good, little dark at times, of course. Uhmm, got a couple less spooky ones, mostly fiction to be honest? I've read 'em all, so you're welcome to any of 'em."

Barry kneels too, examining the books. They say a lot about their owner sometimes, books do. They hold stories, and a person can take those stories into themselves, even use them to help shape the story they write with their life. Books are like companions, and here Barry sees one he saw a long time ago on a dark night. 

He remembers so much about the night he fell in love with Lup, her comforting him and vice versa, how she held out hope when he couldn't see it. And he remembers how she lay next to him, close and as comfortable as it got on the ground, and read this book over again like a visit with an old friend. 

He pulls the book from the shelf. _Mary Poppins,_ declares the cover in Elvish script. His Elvish isn't great, but it's not completely non-existent, and a quick peek at the first few pages reveals a story written simply enough that he might just be able to manage. He looks up at Lup. "This one a favorite of yours?" he asks.

She blushes, and nods. "Yeah. It's maybe a little... young for your taste, I dunno." 

Just seeing the worn cover brings so many memories flooding back. The twins had spent a lot of time in libraries, between the various caravans they snuck their way into. So long as they stayed quiet, most wouldn't mind a couple of kids taking respite from the cold or hiding from a petty theft gone wrong. Many of the titles on offer would change with the towns they found themselves in, but a couple would stay the same. Somehow, Lup had found a copy of this tale in most and, after a number of cities, she'd managed to finish it. Didn't stop her from picking it back up whenever she found it, though. 

"It was the first one I bought that wasn't a textbook. You're welcome to borrow it, if you want? I've only got the Elvish copy, but lucky for you, there's two elves here to help if you get stuck," she laughs, smile looking just a little far away.

"I might need it, I'm still kinda learning. Maybe it'll be good to try something like this while we've got some chill time, you know?" He grins. "Plus, it's gotta be good, the best books always look like they've been read a lot." 

"It's got my recommendation, so," Lup tucks an old planar-phys book back amongst the rest. It's certainly a singular feeling, seeing Barry page through her books, genuinely some of her more prized possessions, with actual interest. Or maybe it's his not balking at the prospect of wading in her barely-native language, knowing he'll come to her with eager questions.   
"Wanna see mine?" Barry asks.

He snaps Lup from her thought, but she's just as eager to see his collection as to show him hers.  
"Absolutely, s'only fair! I mean, I showed you mine..." She waggles her eyebrows, dissolving into laughter as she follows him to his room. Gods, this is what they needed. Some time to exist and get to know each other in a context _not_ involving near-death. They can actually take some time to just hang. It feels like something will be just around the corner, and soon this perfect plane will turn against them, too. But hopefully the scariest thing they'll find here is Magnus.

Barry opens the door to let Lup in and follows her into his room, kicking a t-shirt up from the floor and snatching it from the air, before slam dunking it into the hamper as he does. He really should be better about keeping this place neat. He heads over to the bookshelf. It's crammed with notebooks and textbooks on the top two shelves, but below that the middle shelf is filled with movies and the bottom two sport an assortment of books, both fiction and non-fiction, along with a couple of big photo albums. "So, uh, we got the zombie one, we got...this one's a lot of short stories with twist endings, detective ones, uh..." he blushes slightly. "I think I technically stole this one, but I'm also preeeeetty sure my mom isn't gonna prosecute me. It's kinda bittersweet, about a woman reading letters her husband left her before he passed on. There's a bunch, just, whatever you'd like, you know."

Lup takes in the shelves with a smile, kneeling down to look through the books. A couple of titles and covers catch her eye, and she pulls them out an inch or so to come back to. As soon as she sees the big photo albums though, she makes a beeline for them. She tugs one out, turning a gaping smile to Barry before clutching it to her chest and making for his bed. "You did _not_ tell me there were photos! Who's in here, baby Barry?" Probably too much to hope he would've brought such a thing on a scientific mission, and _yet..._ She flicks the cover open, biting back a grin.

Barry's blush deepens. Those photo albums had sat unobtrusively on their shelves back in their apartment, he supposes they looked homey there. He supposes she could've looked through them then, nothing stopping her, but it was different this way. It was different here in his room, with no one watching, with him clutching her favorite book while she paged through his memories and he _knew_ it. 

He walked over to the bed and sat cross legged on it. "Baby Barry, teen Barry, undergrad Barry, kinda a little of all flavors. And, uh, family, friends. Mom. You know," he shrugs. "You can--if you want you can look."

She doesn't need to be told twice. A hand goes to cover an incredibly soft smile, seeing a little tiny Barry in little tiny bluejeans. _How did they make them so small? That should be illegal._ As little Barry grows up, others start featuring in the photos as well. Most prominently is a kind-eyed woman with soft grey hair, despite her barely middle-aged face. Those eyes are familiar, and she smiles up at them when she looks at Barry. "Mom?"

Barry smiles softly. "That's her. I'm lucky, I've got a bunch of pictures of her in here," he answers. He flips a page and is greeted by a picture of himself, probably nine or ten years old at the oldest, holding up a gigantic stuffed dog while Marlena looks on, smiling. "It's a surprising amount, really, she was usually either moving or behind the camera, kinda hard to photograph, you know?"

Lup nods, looking on as he pages through photos. He looks so happy, all fairy-floss and plush prizes, and his mom couldn't look more proud. "It's Marlena, right? You definitely take after her." She gasps a soft _awwe_ at a picture of the two hugging, and she leans her head against his leg from her position on her stomach. "Barold, that is the cutest shit I've ever seen. Barry. Bear. I can't."

"That's us, in case you wondered who taught me how to hug good," Barry confirms bashfully. "She tried to teach me how to clean up after myself and how to look folks in the face when I'm talking with them too, guess two out of three's not bad," he jokes.

"Hey, I think she did alright." She nudges his leg, flipping the page. There's a few pictures of a school aged Barry with a big backpack and a shaggy braid. That answers that, then. "Ooh, loving the look! Oh my gods, wait," she flips a couple pages, giggling. "Pleeeease tell me the green hair is in here..."

“It’s in there, it’s a few more pages I think,” Barry laughs. “Gods, can’t believe you remember that story, holy shit.” He angles closer, looking through the pictures with her. “Yup, you’re getting close, green hair was sixteen, this is fourteen. That’s the first recital I did as an accompanist.”

"How could I for _get_?" She pauses though, trailing a finger along the edge of a photograph. He looks so small in that fancy little button down, standing next to a piano and giving a nervous grin. Lup knows that feeling all too well; anxiety, but the kind that makes it all the more exciting. "Fourteen? And you were accompanying?" She shakes her head, clearly impressed. "That's insane, you must be real good. You're gonna have to let me see you play sometime, yeah?"

"Fourteen's tiny for _you_ ," Barry teases, nudging her shoulder lightly. "I'd been playing a long time by then, though, since I was real little. If we run across a wild piano, though...I'm definitely rusty as hell, but I'll play."

"Fourteen's tiny for you too!" She flips a couple pages, waiting for a spot of green. "How early did you pick it up? I don't think I touched a violin 'til I was like... twenty, easy." He's right, the age comparison gets a bit wonky after like ten years old, but _still_ . To be good at _anything_ by fourteen is wild. 

Finally, angsty teen Barry emerges, all dark-wash denim and _ohh, yep, that hair was a choice_ . Lup covers a laugh, bowing her head until her own curls fall onto the page. "This is.... _beautiful_. Incredible."

"I was like six...ohhh, yup, you found it, green hair, there it is, and the dark jeans-- it's called _fashion_ , look it up," he laughs, waving a hand dramatically.

She snorts, joining his laugh. "Ohh, well, _excuuuuuuse_ me! I was just giving a compliment over here, but I guess I'll just keep that all to myself!" She rolls her eyes. "Six is so damn tiny, though? Like, even for you, that's _little_. Impressive."

Barry laughs harder. “Oh, I love compliments, I just don’t know what to do with them,” he jokes. “Gods I haven’t looked at this in so long, I always forget how short I was in some of these. Really shot up right after. And you’re right,” he gives her another playful nudge. “Six is little-bitty. Little tiny hands and a great big piano, plunking out some simple stuff. But my mom thought it would be a good thing for me to learn and I took to it, so I kept on going.” He shuffles, closer to her, closer to the album. This is nice, better than what he’d envisioned. It’s a little awkward, he’s blushing a bit, but here she is paging through his history and looking absolutely delighted. That’ll really do something for a guy. “Only a few more years to the mullet,” he says with a smirk.

Lup gasps, delighted. She'd nearly forgotten about the _mullet_ . "Ohh, hell yeah. Show meeee the mullet!" If she could photograph this moment in her mind, she would in an instant. This is how they should be-- no mission, no Hunger, just a family of friends who have done their duties and get to _live_. In this world, there's no awful preconceptions or HR issues, and maybe, just maybe…

But as far as they know, this year will end. And they'll be back to the never-ending cycles, maybe to never see a year of respite again. And if that's the case? Lup can't risk the hum in her heart that wants to pull Barry down beside her and let be what would be. Instead, she flips through his memories, and tries to make this one stick in her mind. 

"Ohh _hot damn_ , Barry you _lady-killer!_ "

Barry blushes and laughs. "That was, uh, that was one thing they called me," he says. "It certainly drew attention, which was I guess what I wanted at the time? It was quite a time, you know?" He pauses. "I mean, deep dark confession time; I'd look twice, if I saw this guy. With a mullet like that? Hmmm, yeah," he says with a smirk.

"Ohh, absolutely! A thousand per-cent! Don't blame ya one bit." She plays into an exaggerated swoon, and maybe a little bit of it is genuine. Or a lot of it. Gods, a mullet is not allowed to look _hot!_

Barry laughs. "Oh no, now I showed it to you though! Now you've seen the sexy, sexy mullet, and who's to blame you? Next thing you know it's flirting and drinks or what have you, that thing should come with a warning label," he jokes, shaking his head in mock resignation. "Now you see why I didn't grow it back out when we lived together, totally irresistible!"

She laughs, covering her face and then running that hand through her hair. "Gods, I'm done for! I can't go on without my be-mullet-ed love!" She rests her cheek on her hand, sporting a far-away look. "Here lies Lup, overcome by longing for that sweet, sweet mullet."

"May she rest in peace," Barry intones dramatically, trying to keep a straight face and failing entirely. "As her soul leaves her body, may she-- _gods, fuck_ I can't--" he breaks off, cracking up entirely. "I can't believe this is how you die, pining over my hair," he laughs. "I'd never have guessed!"

"Ohh, but what a way to go..." She chuckles, flipping a page in the album. "In the hopes that I don't _literally perish_ for want of that sexy do, I _gotsta_ know what other gems are hiding in here. Any other particularly _thrilling_ looks?"

"Hair-wise that's about the scope of it, well that and the green hair. There's a notable swimwear choice I think in this album? Maybe in the other one. Nothing you haven't caught a peep of, of course, and purely for beachside looks." He snort. "It was not the most comfortable thing I've ever worn, but it was on brand.”

She scoots the album over clapping her hands together, "Ohh,  _ show? _ Barold, Barold  _ what? _ " Lup can hardly imagine him going for a swim, she knows it's just not something he does. She feels a little bad that their year of rest has ended up on a beachfront, though he doesn't outwardly seem to mind? The weather's nice, she supposes, and the jungle-y bits are absolutely fascinating. Still, it might be fun to go out for a swim together sometime.

Barry picks up the other album and pages through it. "It would've been, hmmm...further in I think, there we go," he says. He stacks the album on top of the one in front of her. "Denim speedo. And before you ask, it _did_ chafe, but also, _fashion_ ," he laughs.

Lup covers her face, but she can't stop the _cackle_ that the image causes. "You-- Ffff-- Bear you--- _HAH!"_ She has to sit up, the force of her laughter pulling a round of coughs from her. "Jesus-fuckin-fantasy-CHRIST... There's no-- _fuck_ \-- no way in hell that was comfy..." She can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes, and that fact alone has her in another fit of giggles. "Barold I'm _dying_. I'm fuckin-- I'm dead and you killed me."

Barry reaches out and pats her back as she coughs. “Breathe,” he laughs. “Don’t actually die on me, I can’t possibly explain that to Taako, you know this-- just like, ‘I’m so sorry, I showed her the jeedo, she died instantly.’”

"The _jeedo!_ " She wheezes, wiping at her eyes. She wants to just lean into his touch, smiling and laughing and close. But instead she shakes her head, watching his words with a grin. "I'll do my best, but no promises if you keep sporting absolute _Looks™️_."

“What can I say, life is more fun this way,” Barry replies. Lup’s laugh has always held his attention, and now she’s laughed so readily and delightedly at so much he’s shown her...he knows it’s not something he can capture, but he hopes she’ll keep sharing it. There were times when her laugh didn’t come so readily, after all. This is much better. 

"You say that now, but when I inevitably need a model for Fantasy Fashion Week, I somehow get the feeling you'll be particularly hard to find..." she snorts. That's a thought, though. Even if the only people on this plane are the seven of them, no reason they can't serve some god tier fits! The gears start turning, but Lup pushes those to the side for now. _What's he sporting, like a 34 inseam?_..

“Well if you’re the one asking,” Barry teases. “Gotta represent all body types, I get it, I get it, everybody can strut a little. I usually go easy mode for everyday, but you know.”

Lup brings her attention back to the present and shoots him a grin. "Ohh you _know_ it! Gotta give the people what they want! No shame in a good basic look, though. That can also go _extremely hard_ ," she allows. "Don't think I have too many pictures... Maybe some from the year we left? Remind me to have a rummage for 'em sometime."

Barry cocks an eyebrow. “I’d _love_ to see pictures, any you’ve got really. It’s always, hmmm. People change over time, but you can always kinda see them-but-different in old photos, it’s always really cool to me. I’ll bet you’ve rocked some looks I haven’t seen before, and given the ones I have I’ll bet some of them were sheer sartorial genius,” he says with a playful nudge.”

"If I find any, I'll keep you posted. Doubt there's any that go back too far though, y'know colour photography hasn't always been a thing," Lup laughs. The album begins to run out of pages as she flips through university, and the photos begin to peter out. An older Marlena stands by a more recognisable Barry at one graduation, then another, then another. Each one shows a bit of age, a bit of a change, one that she maybe wishes she could see of herself. They've come so far, Taako and her, and a part of her wouldn't mind being able to look back. But where they've gotten to is pretty okay, too.

Barry snorts. "Always forget you're an old lady, I really should stand when you walk into a room, I'm slipping," he teases. He gives her arm a light poke. "You ready to hit the beach?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new cycle means new playlists!
> 
> From ST: [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3LSDgXeVm2dRP0HHvdd4Io?si=03srX3aHSWSbYQt0tvnV6g)
> 
> From SA: [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2bPKfBeuA03AMgyfChmWgf?si=HCmq6L8qSCOyNptaN9CAkQ)


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach reading and pining, this is the soft content we so desperately need!

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to head out onto the sand. Barry looks out over the vast expanse of the water. It looks cool and clear, with the waves making a sort of relaxing background noise. He's slept better this cycle for hearing it, he realizes. Huh. Seems simple, but if it works, it works.

He spreads out a blanket and digs in the bag he brought out. He pulls out a bottle of sunblock. Well, there's no way he's gonna be able to reach-- "Hey Lup? Would you mind getting my back?"

Lup pulls out the book she'd picked from Barry's stash. The cover looks a little romance-y, but hey, maybe that's what she needs on a chill beach day?  _ P.S. I Love You _ ? That sounds cute as hell. She settles a blanket down near Barry's, turning to catch his words over crashing waves. "Ohh, sure thing. Long as that's reciprocal," she winks, and takes the bottle. 

Barry sits resolutely still in a totally natural and not at all awkward way as Lup opens the bottle of sunblock. She  _ winked _ . She wants him to help her next. This is  _ fine _ . Just  _ focus _ . 

"Yeah, absolutely," Barry agrees. He relaxes a little with her hands running over every inch of his back, nice and thorough. She doesn't want him to burn, and isn't that always her way? She's protected him with her spell sculpting so many times, nursed him when he was feverish, she never lets him burn. 

Except, well. The sexy way. He does burn that way.

The thing is, Lup never really considered large and nerdy to be her type. But if the cycles have taught her anything (aside from go for the eyes, double knot your sutures, and always bring water), it's that people change. Her hands travel over broad shoulders, and she wants so badly to lean down and rest her head there, maybe press a chaste kiss to the little freckle on his jawline. She won't, of course, but a girl can want. 

"All covered, champ," she wipes the daydream from her eyes before he can turn around. "You mind gettin' me?" Her top comes off-- Lup's not one to suit a farmer's tan, unforch-- leaving a swim top and shorts. The sun already feels nice, if only this plane would last forever.

"Thanks," he says, turning and  _ of course her top's off, she's at the beach, this is fine _ . He settles behind her and gently moves her hair to the side. He starts to rub to sunblock into her back, working around the swim top, fingers running over the soft skin and across scars. 

They're not all here, some of her scars have been erased with the new cycles, but there are some, a few smaller ones and one that reaches around the right side of her waist, fern-like and somehow both precise and chaotic-looking. She's got a whole history, etched into her skin. 

Wait, it's Lup. Really, properly, she's got a list of times she's won. 

Gods, that's hot. 

Barry finishes up with the sunblock. "Good to go, no burning today," he says.

Lup flips her hair back, tying it out of the way high on her head. "Thanks, Bee. You down to get, just  _ so _ damn chill up in here?" She steals the sunblock to make sure the rest of her is well-protected, diligently getting every bit of her ears. Peely ears are a fate worse than  _ death _ . She tosses the bottle towards Barry with a laugh, flopping down onto the blanket and kicking her feet up. A bonus of not fighting for their lives means that a second-level won't be missed, so the leather loop of her bookmark goes right around her finger, and her book hovers a foot or so above her.  _ Perfect. _ " _ This _ is how you vaycay."

Barry reaches to catch the bottle, just missing it, and laughs as he scoops it off the ground and tucks it back into the bag. He pulls out the copy of Mary Poppins and lays out on the blanket. 

"Hell yes, it's what we deserve," he declares. It is. They deserve to relax and read a good book on a warm, sandy beach. He opens the book and begins to puzzle through the Elvish words, some familiar, some not but decently easy to grasp by context.

Lup snorts, shielding her eyes in that "I saw nothing" way. He's right, they do deserve this. Twenty-some-odd years worth of world-saving with no vacations? Not a single bank holiday? Absolutely  _ buckwild _ , and in need of immediate remedying. But for the time being, it seems like they're getting the break they need. After a while, her book starts to lose altitude, and Lup rolls over. She's only mildly self-conscious pulling the strings of her bikini top-- evenly tanning being next to godliness and all that-- before settling onto her elbows with her book, feet kicked up in the air.

Barry glances over as he hears her shift and-- _ her top? Okay! She's...this is fine! _ He really wants to just  _ look _ . Better than that, to touch. That's a non-starter, though, without her say-so. He thinks he should maybe look away, in case he shouldn't be looking at her, but then again... 

Then again, she chose to be like this, top untied and leaning on her elbows, looking so sexy and smart, knowing he was there, presuming he might look. It feels gross to sort of erase that. She can decide what to show off, right? He'll just read some and not fault himself for looking--oh, come on, he's never not faulted himself for anything, but he can try.

Lup flicks the page,  _ ohh gods, he sent her letters? _ She covers a soft look with her hand. Lup Tacco is  _ not _ going to cry on vacation. Even if this whole "husband dying, incredibly familiar and rough recovery" thing hits a little too close to home. 

_ He sent her a cake?? Post-mortem??? On her BIRTHDAY? _ Okay, so she might cry a little. She adjusts a bit, more laying than leaning at this point, and catches Barry's eyes. "You... good? 'S there a... find a weird word?"

Barry turns his head. He’s been diligently wading through most of the pages, but truth be told he’s been picking at this sentence for a couple of minutes. It looks like it’s built the same way as the last one, just a verb and an object, instructions maybe? He just can’t figure out for  _ what. _ “Uh, yeah, I’m kinda—this one here? It looks like it’s gotta be an imperative verb like the last sentence, and then I recognize  _ bag _ , but I don’t recognize this one,” he says, bringing the book closer.

She leans over, following his finger, and laughs. "Yeah, no, that's an old one.  _ Dubbeltje _ , it's like... a unit of coin? I think like two copper or something? Like, back when that could buy you much of anything." She trails her finger along the sentence, furrowing her brows. "Ohh! Okay, yeah, it does look like a verb, huh? There's like, an implied  _ zijn _ or like...  _ kost _ in there? So like, it costs  _ dubbeltje _ for a bag of.. what, birdfeed? Awwh, that scene's so cute. Love the bird woman." Lup smiles fondly. She reads a few more lines before shaking her head with a laugh and scooting back out of Barry's space.

Barry’s face lights with understanding. “Ohhh, yeah, okay, that makes sense. It was kinda throwing me because if it was an imperative and she’s repeating herself I’d’ve expected them to either do the thing already or it to be worth mentioning that they didn’t. Quoting a price makes sense though, okay yeah! Thanks!” He grins at her. “I’m loving this so far. It’s super...delightful I guess, is the best word? It feels nice to look at life that way.”

"Yeah, I mean it deffo makes sense to read it that way, like. I think I'd see it that way at first, too." That smile just melts her heart in the best way; it has for a long time. It's why Barry is both the best and the worst lab partner. Every imperfect experiment, every little discovery, she gets to see a peak of that joy. And the times when that joy is directed to her, even in the smallest way, she could die a happy elf. For now, though, she channels that love into a smile, fondness for both the story and the man reading it. "Glad you like it. That lady's gotten me through it, I'll tell ya." She laughs, a soft, contented thing.

“I can see why. And hey, now I’m getting better at Elvish, too, that’s exciting,” he says. She’s looking at him so softly, so happy to help. Sometimes it’s hard to ask, but not when she offers it so freely and so kindly. It doesn’t feel like a hit to his ego that would usually drive him to dig up the answer on his own. 

Once, Barry thought that it would be easiest to be near someone like himself, who would help him the same way he helped others. He never could seem to stop helping, it was the love leaking out through his hands. Lup does one better, though. She helps, and reminds him to help himself. That’s worlds better. “How ‘bout you? Nice and chill?” he asks.

"Ohh, me? Yeah, supes chill. Definitely a heart-wrencher though, jeez." She knew Barry was all soft in the middle, but  _ oof _ . 

“Yeah, it super is. Sweet and sad, kind of a ride,” Barry agrees. It’s touching to see her face out of the corner of his eye. She seems invested in the book, in such a tender hearted way. If it was anything other than a gripping paperback making her look that way he’d want to soothe her. Sometimes it’s good to feel something through a good book like that though. Safer, you can kinda practice feeling and still be able to close the book for a break. You can’t do that with life.

Lup grins and turns back to her book, but it's only a matter of time before that smile is washed away under waves of teary eyes and soft gasps.  _ He sent her on a trip to his home country? To reconnect with him?? What kind of soft? _

Exactly the kind of soft Barry would've left her, had he had the time. She didn't get handwritten letters for the months that she'd spent without him, some small piece of him to fill that abrupt void. Even if the marriage was for looks, even though he doesn't feel quite the same way she does and that night she keeps reliving was a little margarita-induced. He still would, wouldn't he? It's just the kind of sweet-hearted and thoughtful that he is. 

Gods, she wishes he had had the time. There were pieces of him all around her, but they weren't  _ for _ her. And maybe it's selfish to want for something  _ meant _ for her-- it absolutely is-- but dammit, it doesn't stop the wanting. She missed him, hard, and it hurt more than she could've imagined to spend those days in that apartment,  _ their _ apartment, without him. Running out of blankets that still smelled like him. She knows exactly how this protagonist feels. 

Her eyes are still scanning the pages, but that's not what's making her eyes misty anymore. It's suddenly far too warm on the sand. "I'm gonna have a quick dip, cool off a bit. Be-are-be." She re-laces her top, shucks her shorts, and heads to the water's edge.

“Have fun!” he calls as she dashes out into the waves.  _ Be safe _ , he thinks at her. He should really learn to swim, he’s sixty-four for godssakes. There’s gotta be some solution he can come up with to keep the water out of his ears. They could go for a swim together, and play in the water...Hmmm. 

_ She’s gorgeous _ , some part of his brain reminds him. It’s just true. No arguments on that. Would splashing in the water feel like goofing around on their couch?

_ Love you _ , he thinks at her, and tilts the book back up, dividing his attention between the page and Lup.

Lup dips her toes in the water, cool and grounding, even if it makes her suck in a breath. It doesn't matter that it's a shaking one, far enough as she is that he won't hear her, won't ask her what's wrong and expect a literary analysis to be the answer. She couldn't lie to him if he asked. She'll burn that bridge when they get to it.  _ If _ they get to it. But for now, she rushes headlong into the water, hiding her face in the waves. Rolling blue lifts her out towards the horizon, and she wishes that she didn't wish Barry was there with her. 

Barry watches Lup, swimming out through the waves, looking so beautiful. He wishes so badly to be out there splashing with her. He's gonna find a way, he decides as Taako wanders up to him. 

"Hey Barold, we got margaritas in there, whatdja do with Lup, bury her in the sand?" 

Psssh,  _ find a way _ , here it is for the asking. All right. He takes a breath and looks up from his book. "She went in swimming, but hey, I--can I ask you a favor?" Taako turns to Barry, a little surprised. 

"What's up my man?" 

"Will you teach me how to swim?"

Taako digs the end of his surfing board into the sand and leans against the top. "Yeah— wait… Oh, you’re kind of a barney, huh?" He takes Barry's confused look with a beat and clarifies, "Barney. It’s surfer slang. It’s like an inexperienced surfer. We call it a— We call ‘em a barney." He looks out over the beach, over the water. He grins. Maybe this year'll be it. Nerds.

"I'm--sure, yeah, I'm that," Barry fumbles. Asking is for the birds, this is harder than it looks. He's still gonna do it though, anyhow. 

"I’m-- I mean, I’ll never get up on that graceful board and carve that spray the way you do but just like, everybody else goes swimming all the time and I just don’t know how to do it and it’s like… It’s getting to the point where it’s like, I’m a grown-ass man and it’s just kind of--" he sets the book down and sighs a little "--embarrassing and, I don’t know… It’s stupid. I can ask Magnus if you want I just thought that maybe. You’re just so good out there on the water that maybe..." he trails off with a pleading look.

An ear flicks back as Magnus calls something from halfway down the beach. Gods, this place carries sound.  _ Gross _ . "I mean yeah, natch. What're ya tryin' to get at, thug? Ask Mags what?" Listen. Taako is not a cruel man by nature. But if these fools are going to put him through Fantasy Princess Bride levels of sickly sweet pining? An elf can be drawn to insufferability.

"Will you just please teach me to swim, Taako? I'm getting antsy now," Barry bursts out. Gods, Taako was making him  _ work _ for it, this was  _ torture _ , Barry thought. If he didn't have such a damn good reason... But he absolutely did. He wanted to swim with Lup, ideally without her having to fish him out of the water like a drowned rat. And from the look on Taako's face, he's absolutely just winding Barry up for fun.

Without missing a beat, he claps Barry on the shoulder, "Yeah, man, dawn patrol. We’ll get out there first thing in the morning." Gods, one of these days. Or years. Taako gets it, as much as a guy can. There's not a good time to feel the way these two  _ clearly do _ , not with the way their lives have gone. But is there ever really? If there is, it might be this. A quiet beach, the promise of tomorrow, at least for now. And if Barry can find the words to ask for help, however mundane, well maybe there's hope for these fools yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Give us the tasty sunscreen content!  
> SA: Once again, Taako comes in to steal the IPRE's only braincell 😂


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Taako bond and the crew has an important discussion ov--MAGNUS!!!

True to Taako's word, dawn finds the two out on the beach, watching the sun peek up over the horizon and begin to call the world to wakefulness. Taako paddles out first, catching a few of the bigger waves as Barry watches, then heads back to Barry's side. 

"So, uh, I'm up, huh? Guess I'll, uh, just get in there?" Barry fumbles.

The water's shallow enough near the shore that Taako can sit on his board, toes grazing sand below.

"Come on in, my dude. Water's fine." He shakes saltwater from his hair, tide bobbing him and his board up and out and back. "S'only a couple feet deep here, just like, get comfy in it. Then we can go out a bit. The tide's gonna try to push you around some, but you kinda gotta go with it, y'know? Go with the flow, but like. Literal."

Barry carefully wades in. So far, so good, okay, this is nice. He can feel the push Taako's talking about. 

"Whoa, yeah, okay," he says. It's easier if he lets it roll around him rather than trying to tense up against it. Oof, okay, something something life lesson, probably. 

Little fish swim around, mostly ignoring the two of them. The water is so clear, it's unbelievable; Barry can see right through it. It's cool, too-- not freezing, but pleasant to be in. There's so much life out here in the water, and he can't really see it all from the beach. 

Another little wave pushes at him. It's almost like the water has opinions, too. He squishes his toes in the sand and scoops his hand through the water, giving it a little splash. This whole experience is brand-new, something he’d been missing out on, but no more. Starting today, Barry’s going in. "Awesome!" he laughs, turning a big grin on Taako.

"Yeaaaah... It  _ is _ literally just water, you do know that, right?" He deadpans, but the quirk of his brow says it's all in jest. What are brothers for, if not poking fun? Even if Taako's not  _ Barry's _ brother,  _ technically _ . He does take a moment, though, to watch a little greeny-blue fish weave between his legs. Okay, it is pretty awesome. "Alright, don't stop there. I want you at  _ least _ treading by breakfast."

Barry snorts a laugh and wades out a bit further. The sand under his feet shifts as he goes. Deeper, little by little, up to his chest, then his neck. "Okay, okay how do I do it, I'm running out of height, like," Barry chuckles.

Taako snorts from his lofty perch. "Yeah, yeah, okay. You wanna think like... like a frog. That little froggy way they move; y'ever see a frog swim, Barold? Poetic. Graceful." He mimics the vaguely-breaststroke-looking arms, held visible above the water by the surfboard. "So like, froggy-arms, right? And like, I guess you kinda just do the legs like you're walking up stairs. Pretty basic. The real kicker is keeping enough air in ya to stay floating. People are heavier than water, but if you've got some air in there, makes the whole thing a hell of a lot easier. Just stay zen, my dude, you'll be fine." And if he panics and goes under? Taako's got Rope Trick prepared. But that's neither here nor there.

Barry can  _ probably _ do this froggy-arms thing, he thinks. It seems straightforward enough, anyhow. He follows Taako's motions, and sure enough, he's able to stay a little off the bottom...for about five seconds. 

"Alright, try that again," he mutters to himself. He tries again, and this time it's a bit steadier, maybe a couple seconds longer, too. His feet reach too far down and brush the sand. Hmmm. Maybe another couple tries and he'll need more depth.

"That's the general idea, my guy. Here, how 'bout..." Taako slips into the water, a hand on his board to keep him mostly dry shoulders-up. He treads effortlessly, natch, even after pushing the board over to Barry. "Might have better luck holdin' on? 'Til you get the shape of it down." 

He back-peddles, setting a couple feet between them. 

"Just like, do the froggy shit, but this way. 'S like a bike, you just gotta lean into it, ya feel?" Gods, how do actual literal teachers do it? Better than this, probably. "Look, it's weird to explain, but I'm not gonna let you go under, Barold. Frog it 'til you make it."

"Okay, yeah, I think..." Barry's getting it; having the board to steady him is helping. It's just unfamiliar, and there's only one way to fix that. He keeps going, then suddenly misses a beat somewhere and for a second he's not sure about this at all. He lets go of the board, regrets  _ that _ , and tries to steady himself with his arms. 

Wait a minute--"Hey, I think I'm doing it?"

Taako nods, as sagely as one can with the salt-water remnants of a grown dude's flailings soaking his hair. "Good shit. Good shit." He wipes his brow with a dramatic flick. "Now if we could just take that whole idea, right, and just scale it down to not  _ all _ over me and my whole deal? I think we're makin' progress!" 

While part of him is thanking Ohgma or Pan or  _ whoever _ exists here for this bit of success, Taako shoots a silent  _ well played _ to whoever's listening, too. Of all the ways this crew has been absolutely, royally  _ fucked _ by circumstance, they've been left each other. A couple of dipshits that actually want to treat each other sorta alright. It seems just the twins' luck they'd find a few good folks in the end of the world.

\--

Slowly but surely, the crew gathers for breakfast. It's almost leisurely the way they've been these past few weeks. Mags and Lup have had the chance to take their sparring outdoors, and it's turned far more fun than necessity. Merle keeps bugging folks to join him for morning beach-yoga, whatever that means. Davenport's taken to humming.  _ Humming _ . Lup absolutely eats it up. Hell, if they've only got it for a year, she's damn well going to appreciate every second of this. 

By the time breakfast rolls around, Barry has gotten in quite a bit more practice. Under Taako's watchful eye, he's started to tread water more confidently and only gotten a couple good mouthfuls of saltwater. He'll keep at it, a little at a time. 

He sits at the table, hair still mussed from the quick rinse in the shower, and grins. "Morning, guys, breakfast smells amazing!"

Taako strolls past, earning a laugh and a hip-check from Lup.    
"Mornin' boys, water treatin' you well?" She sets a pot of coffee on the table, nestled on a little hot-pad of knit vine. Seem's Ko and Luci have finally found a hobby in common; they'll have to get a little ship-wide stitching circle going someday. She wonders what other hidden talents her crew holds, as she serves herself a big bowl of coconut-yogurt and fruit.

"It's real nice out there, I had a ton of fun," Barry enthuses. "Just the right temperature, sunrise was gorgeous, oh my gods." 

"Waves are primo, too," Taako adds. He picks up his spoon. 

"You shoulda seen him go," Barry agrees, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "The fish are mischievous, too." He chuckles, and the smile on his face is more genuine and relaxed than usual. He could get used to this. The whole crew's together and no one's hurt, there's time for work and hobbies, there's no major threat. 

He's starting to feel like there's the potential to make progress instead of holding a line. There's even time to bond a little, and have fun together. If he didn't know better he'd be tempted to call it ideal. It's certainly healthy, anyhow.

"Ohh, I've seen him. Ever gonna let me get at that board, bro-bro?" Lup laughs, sliding a steaming mug of coffee (black, two sugars) to Davenport as he takes his place at the table. "Uhmm, I'm sorry,  _ who _ made this beautiful board? If you want something this bespo-" 

"Magnus, pretty sure." Lucretia bites her tongue, shooting Lup a grin half hidden in her mug. Lup's eyes go wide in delight, mirroring Taako's apall.

Merle pulls up a chair next to Davenport with a scrape as Taako sputters. "I literally invented this sport? Me, Taako? I  _ designed _ ..." 

Barry keeps loose track of Taako's rant as he looks around the table. Almost everyone there, just waiting on Magnus, everyone happy and healthy--well, wait. 

Davenport isn't stirring the sugar into his coffee, he usually does that. Is something up? Something's for sure off, Barry makes a mental note to check, maybe it's something he can help with-- 

"MAGNUS!" The man appears out of nowhere, right behind the captain. Davenport doesn't so much as flinch, the illusory image blinking out as the real captain comes around the corner into the room.

Lup had been half a second from her own scoffed reply when Magnus pulled a... well, Magnus, that sends both twins hollering. " _ Jesus fuck _ , why! Literally  _ why? _ " Taako does his best to look dignified after the sound he just made, while Lup plays off her own shriek with a winded laugh. Magnus is too shocked at the secret, secondary Davenport to weigh in. 

Barry starts, then bursts out laughing. “Got ‘im,” he manages, still not quite sure who got whom.  Their captain takes his spot, again, at the table, and idly stirs his coffee. "I've been thinking," he begins, pointedly ignoring the mixture of disbelief and respect fighting for control of Magnus' expression. "And I think Burnsides might have a point in all this. The  _ method _ ..." he makes a noncommittal gesture, earning a snort from Merle. "Regardless, if we're to operate under the assumption that these cycles will keep coming at us, we can't let this year see us slacking."

Lucretia recovers first, and nods in agreement. “It probably is best to be prepared.” 

“We can take some of this time to drill. I'd like to see us secured and ready to take off in a matter of minutes, when necessary,” Davenport continues. “As security officer, naturally I’ll need your help on this, albeit in a more organized fashion,” he says, turning to Magnus.

Lup is caught between a chuckle and a solemn nod, a strange flinching expression that solidifies into a concentrated brow. He's right; they don't have the luxury of a vacation, not really. Regardless of how idyllic a plane may appear. "Yeah, we have to have our... escape practiced at all times. We have a vague structure of how and when this thing comes at us, but scien _ tifically _ ? There's no proof it has to adhere to that." 

Magnus straightens, immediately drawn back to that professional disposition that his crew sometimes forgets is there, under the goofs. "Let's draw up the quickest way to get this ship off the ground, Cap. Then we can work on getting all those bases covered quickly." He seems to have forgotten the breakfast in front of him, idly mixing his yogurt while he talks.

“How quickly do you think we can get airborne? Ten minutes? Five?” Lucretia asks. 

“Even faster if we know what we’re doing I bet,” Merle supplies. 

“Yeah, and we’ll need to cross train, in case...you know, in case we need to cover each other’s jobs,” Magnus says. 

Oof, that comment hits Barry hard. He kind of doesn’t want to think about it, but in the warm light of day he knows it’s true and the crew needs to handle it. “For sure. Breakables in the lab, hazards, all of it, we can make a list. Can’t be too careful.”

"Yeah, okay. We can get a working list of what needs secured lab-wise, right? Easy." Lup's already running through her memory of what's active in the lab at the moment, experiments that are secure enough in the hood and those that would be moot and safer disposed of before flight. 

Taako's chime is all pursed lips and raised brow, "I mean, if people put  _ away _ things when they were  _ done _ ..." 

Lup snorts, but he's right, too. "Yeah, okay, mister Soaks His Sylph-Oven Overnight..." He squabbles a response, as siblings do, and a bit of tension falls from the table. Lucretia mentions looking through her logs for any indication as to their faster escapes; Merle is chastised into clearing out the more breakable plant pots from...  _ everywhere _ . They'll secure things now, while there's tangible time in front of them to hold. Not just practice getting the ship ready, but  _ keeping _ it ready. Remembering their new mission. Every day.

— 

“Okay.” Later that day in the lab, Barry glances over the list. Wildly, securing breakables in here is something he’s helped with in the absolute least intended way over the past few years. Silver lining, maybe; at least everything’s good to go when not in use. “So basically, we’ll need to prioritize—should we just have everything written up on a whiteboard all the time and make it protocol to note the potential hazards every time we start something? It might not always be us packing up, but it’s not like there’s security clearance to fuck with.”

"Yeah, no, I think that makes sense." Lup leans heavy on the lab counter, looking like she's scanning their notes but in reality only capable of holding onto his words along with her racing mind plotting every possible mistake.  _ Focus _ . 

"I think, and I don't know why we weren't doing this already... If we start something, we gotta have a central place to note what's in the works, and what the close-out procedure should be at the end." She turns, leaning back against the countertop. "Near the door makes sense, but I think as long as everyone knows where to look it'll be fine? S'long as it doesn't take time to find, y'know." 

She cracks her fingers, in lieu of tapping the counter. "Whiteboard's too easy to erase accidentally... Is there an illusory option? Or transmutory... something a bit more permanent? I dunno, this is all spaghetti..."

Gods, she's tenser than she's seemed all cycle. Barry gets it though, this stuff isn't fun to think about, even if it is good to have a plan. "You're right, we basically need something durable and easy to see. Like obviously none of us is stupid, but this needs to be something panic mode brains can handle so simple is best. Illusory might work, as long as it's done so it doesn't fail...then again, the drills'll help with that too. Yeah, that could be something," he says. He nudges her elbow encouragingly. "We're gonna get this down pat."

She takes a moment to smile, nerves deflating a little with his prodding. "Yeah. Yeah, we're... we've done it all before, just gotta..." Her cheeks puff, hands forming a sphere-shape in front of her as she searches for the sign to tip the word off her tongue. "Put it together. Better. Maybe..." Lup laughs, and turns back to the counter, scratching something down in her notes. "Maybe we can set some sort of... It'd have to be a ritual. For things at actual stations, I think it might be enough to just... distinguish which stations need attention before liftoff? Start putting those procedures down whenever we set up something new. I think if we can get Dav in on it, we could figure out one of those... ritual-turned-permanent casts? Centrally-located, hells we could probably figure out something magi-technological, see if the ship can't power it.." 

Her tail  _ swishes _ idly, fingers tapping her chin. It's been a while since she did any programming,  _ none _ of it very good, but it'd be a simple script really. A few lines of code trail from her pen, all neat little slashes and brackets.

“Ooh...okay wait, if the ship powers it...that could really be something. That could be stable and if it’s not...well, that outcome doesn’t matter, right?” Barry says. “If it’s on the ship’s power as long as one of us gets out we’ve got the protocol, that’s excellent.” 

He glances down at what she’s writing. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but honestly? Necessity is the mother of invention, surely they can figure out a way to make it work, and anything is an improvement over what they’ve got now. They’ve even squeaked by so far without it, so why not?

"Yeah? Yeah! Yeah, this could be a thing." She grins up from her notes, and the half-doodled computer screen with a beaker inside. She gives it a little smiley face. "I'll have to like... I mean I'm not  _ good _ at computers, but like. Cap'n's gotta have some idea, maybe one of those books from the... robit-plane...?" 

Lup looks around the lab, at the handful of things out and cooking. "What about these? I mean, 'til we get this thing going," she taps her pen on the little computer guy. "Cap'll probably want us to have everything squared away anyway, y'know?"

"Definitely, plus we'll need to know what to tell it in the first place, right? Like we need that information, one way or another, we can work out a list and then see if we can't evolve from pen and paper." Barry grins. Now they're getting somewhere. Small steps, something they can accomplish. 'Save all universes' isn't a single line on a checklist, after all. 

"It's kinda good to have enough time to get this organized, you know? It'll be such a load off in the long run," he says.

"Yeah, it is." Still, she reaches up to knock her knuckles against the wand stuck up in her hair. Can't be too careful. The hardest part of their task for the time being is just getting it all down, step by step. 

They've packed these kinds of experiments away hundreds of times; it's become more second nature than a following of steps. Dump this in the drain, this in the fire bucket, just in case. Some things can stay going, once they're off of open counters. It's not long at all before they've got simple steps for securing everything currently running, and even parameters set up for those frequently-run types. It feels good to get to see something start to mostly-finish, with concrete plans to get to actual-finish. It's honestly a feeling Lup wishes they had more of.

As they work, Barry mulls over the past few months. They’ve been better, noticeably so. He still has a few things to be careful of, occasional bad days, of course. Prepping the lab like this is crossing another thing off of his anxiety list, though. 

Working with Lup has taken on a new feeling. Barry loves her, certainly, and that’s remained unchanged even through the dark days of anger and isolation. But alongside that has always been a reluctance to shatter the uneasy balance they’d been managing through year after harrowing year. The last thing he wants is to make his love for her into something upsetting or uncomfortable if it isn’t returned and they still have to work together day in and day out. But they’d managed before with a wedge between them, hadn’t they? And they’d worked it out, it had ended up okay and with them on the same team again. 

How bad could it be? That’s not the relevant question. How big a coward about this could Barry be? Big enough, it seems, to keep quiet. 

“You know, Luci said five minutes, I bet we can do all this in less,” Barry says, appraising the list. “Shoutout to my brilliant lab partner, we may never have to stress about hazards during liftoff again.” 

Alright well. Mostly quiet.

Lup chuckles, doing a last count-off in her head and finding they'd gotten everything down. She'll still worry that they hadn't, right up until everything's put away and then some, but a little anxiety keeps you safe. Right? "Yeah, yeah, I mean... s'a light load, totally not that we're incredible or anything..." She meets his eyes with a look that he'd learnt over the years means  _ thank you _ , when she doesn't quite know how to take a compliment. "We should run this all by Dav, yeah? See what he's got to say about hardwiring something into his boat and all that." There's a growing smile on her face while she tucks her pen in her hair, flips her notes closed.  “Yeah,” Barry agrees thoughtfully. “It feels real good. We deserve it, honestly, it’s only a step but it’s a little win too, you know?” 

Lup’s little looks and tells have gotten so familiar over the years, Barry reflects. He catches them so readily, she probably couldn’t keep anything from him if she tried. He likes knowing her so well, it makes them a great team. You know, professionally. “Let’s hope Dav’s on board,” he says, trying and failing to keep back, and small snort-laugh at, the bad joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Amazing what a little security will do for a guy's willingness to try something new, huh? Thriving, you absolutely love to see it!  
> SA: I'm not saying beach year is like quarantine, but we did literally all pick knitting back up, soooooooo...


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Lup both learn that even though you can't control the weather, you can certainly learn how to cope.

The sun sets, and rises, again and again over the coast of their little oasis, each cycle bringing with it another sliver of light that Taako steals to himself. Before even Barry is awake to meet him, when the water is pinks and blues, he's already breaking through the surf. 

It's the slow mornings that put it all into perspective for him. Everybody's got their thing, probably, something that makes 'em feel a little more like a person when they need to. Like religion. Or yoga. For the moment, this is his. Vast ocean, a big-ass star chasing away the dark, like it has for fuck-knows how long. Like it'll keep doing, for fuck-knows how long-er. 

It's uncaring, but not in the break-neck speed of their apocalypse. This kind of uncaring isn't good or bad, it just  _ is _ . And that's maybe more comforting than hoping for benevolence. Beats yoga. For a while there, this ritual was only for him. People need that, right? Alone time? He doesn't need it all to himself though. A view like this deserves to be shared. 

"Mornin', Barold," he calls back to shore.

“Morning!” Barry wades out toward Taako. The sunrise plays out over the waves. It’s time to wake up and get at it, and ‘it’ today is swimming. 

He starts as something tickles his knee, and looks down through the clear water. A friendly little fish is curious, looks like. 

He grins, and looks up at Taako. “Whatcha got for me today, bud?”

"How's about appreciatin' the scenery?" Taako lets the break carry him back to shore, eyes still watching the horizon. "Can't ya just chill before throwin' yourself in?" 

Barry looks out over the water. He knows the horizon is there, but it always seems far away. Maybe it’s meant to be appreciated without meddling. That’s kinda beautiful, he thinks. Taako’s right, they should take it all in, just be still a moment. 

Taako raises an eyebrow, shooting Barry a chastising look. Then he smirks. "Also, riptides."

“Uh, riptides? Aren’t those super dangerous? Are you sure?”

"Yep. Exactamundo, my dude." Taako settles his board in the sand. "And you gotta know how to deal with 'em. "There's less to it than you think, which is like, most of it. Gotta learn to do it 'fore you get too big for your trunks, thinkin' you can kick a wave's ass or something. 'S not how it works." 

He nods a ways out, maybe ten yards down the shore. A thin trail of seafoam stretches much farther into the deep, but otherwise, the water looks calm. "You can see 'em sometimes, like that. Inconspicuous, unless you know what you're seeing. C'mon." Taako starts heading towards the point, leaving his board standing in the sand.

Barry follows Taako, squinting. “Right out—yeah, okay,” he says. Taako’s right, he almost didn’t notice at first. He’ll have to learn to watch out for them. “So you can’t kick a riptide’s ass, uh, you just have to not let it kick yours? Somehow?” he asks.

"Yep." Taako wades out, until there's foam bobbing around his knees. The force of it's there, tugging at his feet, but not enough to pull him out. Yet. "It's just the way the waves fall. Pulls the water out in a straight line for a while. Feels scary, but it's just what happens sometimes. Two circles, spinnin' at each other." He gestures with two fingers, tracing away from his body in two separate directions. "If you get caught, the only way out is to ride it out. Or break the cycle. Watch and learn." He takes a few more steps into the current, letting waist-high water carry him bodily toward the sunrise. A few seconds, and he's yards and yards out from shore. Then he reaches out, parallel to the shore, and pulls free.

Barry watches intently. Taako wouldn’t have stood a chance trying to fight the current directly. He can get pulled along, or stay calm and slip out of it, those are the options. 

Okay. None of that seems especially well controlled or safe, but then again, the ocean is large and Barry is small, comparatively. He’s gonna have to figure out how to work with the water, not against it. He can probably do this, he thinks. 

“So you have to just go sideways? Not back to shore, just kinda out of the way?” Barry kinda wants to try it now, wild as that seems at first.

"Just out of the way." Taako comes back to shore several metres to Barry's right, without so much as the top of his braid wet. "Dumbest shit you could try is fighting it back the way you came. The tide'll win that fight every time." 

He's quiet a moment, then shakes his head. Too poignant. "Right, so. Try to get out the side, and if you can't, just let it carry you out. It'll taper off eventually, and you can swim back around it." He nods towards the water. "Have at it."

Okay. Whew, okay, Barry's gonna try it. "Right...here goes," he says nervously. He moves out into the current. The water starts to pull and then all at once Barry's dragged out, away from shore. "Wait, shit!" he bursts out. He struggles, it's not even that deep, this is silly, he should be able to... 

_ Sideways, dumbass. Don't fight it. _ Right. He reaches out to his right and starts to swim. Sure enough, he pulls free of the riptide and into somewhat calmer waters. He takes a deep breath and lets out a half-chuckle-half-gasp as he turns for shore. "That's  _ strong, _ " he calls to Taako, "but I got it! Still kicking!"

Taako tosses his board back into the water and perches on it, bobbing near the shore. A twitching ear betrays his chill when Barry yelps, but his water-logged chuckle stills it right back out. "Fer-sher, fer-sher." 

So he worries a little. They're teammates, "bros'' even. They're also highly-capable adults, or whatever, so Barry can handle a little salt water up the nose. He hauls himself around and paddles out to the rip. "Let's take it again." 

\--

Once the sun has long since finished the long climb through the skies and begun to ease down to kiss the horizon—goodnight, same time tomorrow—things change. The wind picks up, and big, fluffy clouds grow and boil and darken in the fading light of evening. The crew looks up from their various pursuits as the first drops of rain start to hit the sand, just a few, and then more and more as a proper storm takes shape. 

Barry catches sight of the waves as they tumble and churn, then picks up his notebook— starting to fill with better thoughts, these days, mixed up with doodles and the occasional really promising idea in the margins— and starts to hustle back toward the ship with the others amid calls of “oh shit!” and “you got it?” and “come on, quick!”. He’d better hurry. Wet jeans aren’t gonna be comfortable, best to watch from someplace drier. And brighter.

Lup can't help but laugh when she finally collects herself, dripping wet and holding soggy towels from the beach. So much for that cook-out tonight. She dumps towels and wet clothes in the bathroom, and takes a minute to wring out her hair in the shower before finding something dry and warm to throw on. Taako's putting away the s'mores gear when Lup returns, and she shoos him away to dry off and let her finish up. She puts the kettle on while she tidies; gods know a storm'll put the whole crew on to some tea.

Barry’s not too slow, but the rain is faster, and by the time he gets inside he’s a bit soggy. Nothing a towel and some fresh clothes won’t fix though. Even this plane’s problems aren’t too big a deal, it seems. 

He wanders out of his room and follows his ears. Movement in the kitchen’s gotta be one or both of the twins, keeping time like the ship’s heartbeat. “Didja make it back or— oh it caught you too huh?” he chuckles.

She chuckles, too, slides a mug across the counter. "Yeah, little bit." Lup pours his water, chamomile already waiting in the bottom. "Gettin' heavy out there, yeah?" The kettle hovers just a second over her mug, anticipating. "Gonna have to uhh.. rain check on the bonfire." She toys with the string of her teabag, watching the window.

Barry accepts the mug and chuckles. "Yeah, a  _ literal _ rain check. It kicked up  _ fast _ out there." He sniffs appreciatively at the steam curling up from the surface of the hot tea. He follows Lup's gaze out at the sheets of rain. "Guess there'll be other nights, though; it's just more of a tea night than a s'mores one, huh?"

Lup stares out at the rain intently, her thumbs tracing the lip of her mug. "Yeah, deffo, glad we're not stuck out in it. Hope it doesn't get too bad, at any rate." 

She finally peels her eyes from the window, and sticks Barry with a grin. "Well, I don't think the  _ whole _ thing has to be a bust." A careful snap has a flame dancing just above her finger; "S'mores can be inside, right?"

"Totally!" Barry matches her grin. "If anything it adds a bit of mischief, which I do like. Outside food inside, what'll they think of next?" He dunks the tea bag up and down a few times. "I bet it'll let up soon though, it kinda came out of nowhere, you know? Probably rain itself out here in a bit," he says hopefully. He's not a huge fan of the swirling cloud cover, but as long as they're safe and dry on the ship he can deal. Might even wash a few cobwebs out of his brain, rain always used to do that back home.

"Probably." Her smile turns a bit lopsided, but she doesn't let it falter, even when her eyes flick back to the window every once in a while. It's no huge  _ secret _ or anything, that Lup's not a fan of storms. Just like how Magnus doesn't like spiders, or Barry's nerves about the dark. But she's thankful he doesn't bring it up. It's just sort of silently acknowledged; he doesn't point out the antsy way she taps her mug, he ignores how her ears flinch back up when she realises they're tilting a bit low. She knows he sees it, but they both pretend he doesn't. And that works for her.

They skewer some marshmallows on chopsticks, set out little plates of chocolate and graham crackers, and  ~~ after some hassling from Taako about rogue evocation in the kitchen ~~ set up a few candles at the table. It keeps pouring down outside the ship's walls, but after a while, Lup stops looking back to the windows. 

It almost looks like the storm will let up after the dishes are put away (again), and the crew starts bedding down for the night. Lup is even nearly asleep when the first flash of lightning bolts through her room.

Barry's curled up in bed, nestled under an extra blanket and fully ready to ride the white-noise train all the way to dreamland when that flash comes. The storm had just been heavy rain and wind, but now-- 

The crash of the thunder snaps Barry back to attention, and back in memory to the very first cycle. There had been a storm then, catching him and the twins out with the mongooses. As he hustled behind them on the way inside he'd seen the way Lup grabbed for her brother's hand, and the tense not-okay set of her ears and tail. He hadn't said anything then. It didn't seem polite. 

She'd looked tense in the kitchen too, like she was just...waiting. That seems horrible, on the edge anticipating something awful. He should go check on her-- well, wait, should he? She's gonna tell him off for babying her, but she doesn't deserve to just be afraid all alone, right? He's not saying she's weak or something, he's trying to help. 

The thought occurs to him to pretend he needs company, that's maybe a back-pocket plan at best though. They've talked so much about honesty. 

This whole train of thought is academic, though. Certainly all of his flip-flopping hasn't stopped him from wrapping up in his massive granny square blanket against the chill and making his way to her door. He could still go back though and not bother her-- And then he hears her. Decision made, he's going in.

_ It'll lighten up, it'll lighten up, it  _ will _. Every storm does, eventually, but gods, why do they have to happen at all?  _

Lup pulls the strings of her hoodie tighter around her face. Normally she'd just  _ get up _ , pull the curtain over her window, or sneak into bed with Taako, but some nights, like tonight, she just can't.  _ Move _ . 

It's just  _ rain _ , just stupid, angry  _ rain _ . What's the point of the lightning, and the thunder that's never enough to give her warning, but always just enough to unsettle her bones. It's stupid and pointless and it's not worth being scared of, but--

It's the Hunger. Lup realises it as another flash startles a choked sound out of her. The lights and the low rumble and the boiling clouds, they're bad on their own, but now they're reminiscent of so much  _ worse _ . Lup slams her fists against her lap, frustrated and tired and  _ scared. _

She nearly jumps out of her skin when the whole room lights up, holding back a yelp with both hands. But a sliver of light remains, silhouetting a dark figure, wrapped in a massive blanket in her doorway, and she reminds herself to breathe.  _ Just the lights. Just Barry. _ She straightens herself up a bit, "Yeah?"

"Hey Lup? You good in here? It's uh, looking pretty wild outside..." Barry honestly didn't really plan what to say, which he realizes is a tad unusual for him. Except with Lup. He's pretty sure she gets it when he just...says things. 

Anyway, forward. The sound he heard wasn't happy or comfortable. Time to see about countering this mess with joy and comfort--you know, balance. "I just thought I'd check if you're alright."

"Yeah, yeah, I--" Lup runs a hand through her hair, tugging her hood with it, in an attempt to salvage some sort of dignity. But she realises what she's saying. They've talked about honesty. "I'm... Not great." 

She winces at another peal of lightning. For all they'd talked about it, it's not easy making these words go. "Do you-- Would you... wanna stay? For a bit?" Her hands fidget, pressing at knuckles even after she's popped them all. "You can leave the lights on. If you want."

"Yeah, definitely, I'll stay. Got room for me and this whole blanket?" Barry offers her a smile. She's right, she's not great. But who says she has to be great all the time? Tonight, she can just be scared, and let the fear work itself through her system as it's chased out by security, little by little until she's back to okay. It won't happen in a heartbeat, Barry knows--if it did, that would probably feel even worse, he figures. It'll just ebb, recede like the tide, and go back to stillness. 

Lup's always been willing to sit with him during the hard stuff, and Barry'll sit with her now. With this giant, heavy blanket and soft words...and snuggles, hopefully; if she wants those, he's more than happy to give them.

She nods, scoots back to give him ample blanket-space. Her blankets are still tucked up around her lap, but that doesn't mean she wastes any time pulling some of his quilt around her shoulders. It's cozy, almost to the point of  _ too _ warm, but it almost feels like it'll stop the faint shiver in her bones, so she leans into the warmth. 

"Thanks. For checking." She holds tight to the edge of the quilt, but she finds a smile, a genuine one, to show she means it.

Now that looks more like Lup. A little pang of nostalgia hits Barry seeing her wrapped up in his blanket that way, but it’s a sweet pang. They’ve been there for each other so many ways, and all of them different kinds of good. No sense missing one for another. He sits, slowly, watching to see where she feels comfortable and ending up right by her side. “Anytime. You’d do it for me, you know. Any way I can help? Or just sit, if that’s good.”

He's right, of course she would. She  _ has _ , just in slightly different circumstances. It's what family does, and for better or worse, that's really what they're turning into. A heavy roll of thunder rumbles around them, and seconds later the room lights up in an eerie white light. 

Lup jumps, shrinking closer to Barry. "Is it, ahh, coming? O-or going? Taako, he counts 'em? Apparently you can tell how far away the storm is, with the time between the thunder and lightning. It's--"  _ Silly _ , she's about to say. 

She takes a breath instead. "I'm not sure if it helps, but. I think it does. To know when the thunder is. And when it starts to leave." Of course it's not silly, irrational maybe. It makes her feel small, though.

Barry nods. Of course, that makes sense. Knowing how far out the storm is, and that it’ll pass, and that they’ll remain afterward, all that could go a long way toward calming Lup’s fear. It’s just like when she described what she could see in the dark for him, in a different way. 

“We can count them, yeah, easy-- we can keep track of where it is. It’s what, five seconds to a mile, in between the lightning and thunder? That’s just science, right? We got this,” Barry says reassuringly. He pulls the blanket closer around them both as the rain patters against the window. “If it’ll help, then let’s count.”

"As long as the physics is the same, yeah. This place is pretty similar though, so, uhh... should be close enough." She nods, more to herself than Barry. 

Five seconds to a mile. Funny how he just... knows that. The little equation that distracts her and gives her a little control, right off the top of his head. It's not like he knows it  _ because of her _ or anything, but the simple fact that he knows it at all makes it feel like not such a strange way to cope. Not such a big ask.

"Just uhmm, let me know when there's thunder, yeah?" Lup reaches for his hand, and gives it a squeeze. "Ko, uhh, just helps keep track of that, y'know..." She catches herself staring at their hands, fingers interlaced, and stares a hole in her lap instead.

"I-I can just go bug him, you don't have to stay up..."

“Hey, no, it’s okay, promise. I’ll keep track of the thunder and we’ll...hmmm. Okay it’ll be like when company leaves, right? And you walk them out and wave them off from the porch; we can do that with the storm, kinda.” He squeezes her hand back. “We can let Taako get his beauty sleep.”

She laughs, shaking her head at this absolute  _ dork _ of a man. "Yeah, okay." A flash lights the windows, and Lup curses the whimpering noise it gets out of her. Why does he have to be such a sweetheart, to see her vulnerable like this? Why does she have to  _ care? _ "Just, just tell me when..." she mumbles, ducked beneath a fistful of blanket.

Barry squeezes Lup’s hand again, and counts off the seconds. “One...two...three...four...five...si— there it is,” he says as the thunder rumbles in the distance. “There we go, now maybe we’ll have a little breather in between,” he says. Lup’s still clutching his hand and the blanket, but honestly? He doesn’t blame her one bit, it’s an excellent setup she’s got here. He’s not going anywhere.

"One and.... One point two." Lup nods, running the maths in her head. "That's close." Her thoughts flash to a reminder, a younger Lup huddled with Taako under the covers.  _ "It can't get that much closer, Lulu. It's gotta keep moving, 'n it can only get more far." _

She holds those words, and Barry's hand, tight. "Close to leaving," she corrects herself. "It'll suck... then go away." Lup closes her eyes against another flash, but caves and presses her face into Barry's shoulder. She laughs into his shirt, "Just like company."

Barry laughs with her and brings his free hand up to her back, just a little rub between the shoulder blades. “Just like company. So obnoxious, I hope it brought some decent wine as a house gift or that’s  _ rude. _ ” 

"Rude." Lup echoes. She gives Barry's hand a squeeze, keeps her head against his shoulder. No reason to look the storm in the eyes, not now. 

It feels tender and fragile, having Lup lean on him this way. He’ll just be careful and hold her trust softly. 

He doesn’t let her hand go, it just stays settled between them as another flash lights up the room. “One...two...three...four...five...six...s—there, almost seven that time, call it six and a half,” he says, still rubbing little circles on her back. “That one’s a little bit further.”

Seven seconds; obviously farther, but Lup does the maths anyways for the distraction. Nearly a mile and a half, and heading out. Thank gods. 

"You don't have to stay, but, uhm. If you want to. Just 'til it's gone?" Her thumb traces his, mimicking the circles he traces on her back. "I, uhh. I'd appreciate it."

“Of course.” Barry pauses, weighs his words. “I could just stay ‘til morning, and that way we don’t have to worry about it, if you want. We can make it all cozy, and you know...I don’t know. Sometimes it’s not over yet when it’s done, you know?” 

He’s not sure that makes sense. But he never feels quite right after something like this, at least not immediately. Barry knows he can’t bring himself to scoot out of Lup’s bed the instant it stops raining, and leave her to fend for her shaky, rattled self. Now  _ that _ would be rude. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like sleeping next to her better than sleeping alone.

Lup smiles, hidden in Barry's shirt. They could stay. He would face this mundane horror with her, and then some, to make sure she shook it off in the end. Maybe if-- no,  _ when _ \-- the world stops ending, she wonders if he'd stay then, too. 

"Yeah, okay." She pulls back, just enough to pull a spare pillow from the floor, and settles it between them. "You gonna share the good quilt?"

Barry chuckles. "When don't I share the good quilt? It's made for more than one person, honestly. Sometimes I wonder where Ma's head was at on that one when she gave it to me, but then I'm like ahhh, yup, I get it." He rearranges the bulk of the blanket over them, leaving one end still wrapped around their shoulders. He settles down contentedly, further into the bed/blanket nest arrangement they've managed. 

It's long since ceased to be breaking news for the two of them to share a bed. Gods know that was true when they lived together, but almost equally true during long nights broken by hellish nightmares and tears and panic. Lup had let him stay with her during times when he couldn't stay in his body or in his head. When the memories drove him  _ out _ and  _ away _ and left his body confused and wooden, the weight of her warm elven form had rested on his chest, bringing him back and keeping him anchored and secure through the night. Now it's his turn to be steady for her, and this time it makes him think... well, about the books, that day on the beach. 

He was ready the day on the beach to think about his books on her shelf, her books on his, maybe their books on their shelf? When he'd come back after his death he'd decided it was best to back up, and not hurt Lup or complicate his recovery. After the last few years of patience and practice though... Barry can stay now, he decides. He can stay without running, body and mind.

Naturally it would be horribly inappropriate to have a conversation like that with Lup curled up tense and tight, as though the lightning might overlook her if she's small enough. Naturally. For now-- Another flash and he squeezes her hand tight. "One... two... three... four... five... six... seven, there it is, still moving," he reassures her.

"Still moving," she echoes.

It's a hopeful thought in more ways than one. Storms moving on, each of them moving on from... well, a lot of things. The Hunger, the past. Home, too, but even then there's more home to be had in the moving. The proof is right here, petting little circles on her back. 

They're gonna be okay, Lup decides. Even if they have to hold each other together, they're going to be okay. 

She doesn't quite feel like lying down yet-- her heart's still pounding in her throat-- but she sits back against the headrest, doing her best to not squish Barry's arm. 

"Thank you." She doesn't let his hand go, and she doesn't elaborate. She doesn't need to.

Barry gives her hand a little squeeze. He gets it. Words are excellent; they’re clear and direct, and they flow easier and easier over time, but still. Sometimes it’s presence and contact that say it all. 

“Anytime,” he says. “It’s just what you do, you know? Plus your bed’s comfy, I don’t mind a bit.”

Lup laughs, and her smile comes easier. The lightning flashes come fewer and farther between, and though she still jumps, she's got a friend there to catch her.

Maybe it’s silly, but Barry’s relieved. Lup’s letting him stay and comfort her. He doesn’t think she would’ve, years back, and then she would be tired and tense the next day...no thanks. It means something that she’ll trust him and accept his help. 

He loves her for it. 

He loves her in the space between lightning bolts. 

He loves her, period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ST: Mmm, gotta love that sweet sweet support and care!  
> SA: It's the learning honesty and vulnerability for me dawg 😭

**Author's Note:**

> Stealthtable here! Co-writing this has been an absolute joy, and I'm so excited to bring it to you all! Major shoutout to SuccinctAbilities, who has yelled with me, kept me on track, yes-anded, stared hard things straight in the face, and just generally been an all around amazing human through this whole process. They deserve every medal!
> 
> Succinct here! I couldn't have asked for a better writing partner for this one. This work is our literal baby, and I'm so ding-dang proud of what we've done with it! We put these kids through the wringer, and honestly, the number of times the characters have taken this to places I had no way of expecting is *staggering*. It's gonna be a long one kids, so buckle up, but the love is worth the ride. <3
> 
> (PS: All signs used by Lup are based on American Sign Language! Thanks again to Stealth for yes-anding my projecting. :') )


End file.
